


The Scales of Love

by TheDarkSide



Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - Mythology, Canon-Typical Violence, Egg Laying, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Female Senju Tobirama, Naga, Naga Hashirama, Naga Tobirama, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Pregnancy, Sibling Incest, attempted infanticide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-21
Updated: 2020-06-21
Packaged: 2021-03-04 05:21:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 35,195
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24844495
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheDarkSide/pseuds/TheDarkSide
Summary: Nagina Senju Tobirama seeks a new home. She has traveled far in the hopes of finding a worthy mate and beginning a family of her own. In a secluded village, she finds a promising opportunity, but Hashi comes with his own story.This is a creature fic. Be mindful of the tags, as naga posses the physical attributes of snakes.
Relationships: Senju Hashirama/Senju Tobirama
Comments: 12
Kudos: 119





	The Scales of Love

**Author's Note:**

  * For [robininthelabyrinth (nirejseki)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nirejseki/gifts).



> If at any point you feel I missed anything that requires a warning, please feel free to let me know. This is a role play collaboration with RobinInTheLabrynth, who seems ever ready to indulge my whims. Please enjoy.

Tobirama gazes warily at the tori gate. The red is lovingly maintained, the ofuda are fresh. She dusts off her kimono, plucking at the red edges. It's a little travel worn, but presentable. She's not all too hopeful about making a good first impression, well aware of the skeptic view humans have on her species. It's only compounded by the fact that Tobirama is very obviously a female, an egg-carrier.

  


There is a human waiting at the gate for her, and she shuffles to him, rippling movements of her underbelly that would be her equivalent of walking. Her hands are tucked against her belly, folded in plain sight, the sharp rattle blade of her tail limp on the stone paving.

  


She bows, low and submissive.

  


"Ningen-sama. I wish to seek shelter in your village. I can pay for my stay with my medical expertise, and I swear no harm to your villagers."

  


This is so very unbecoming of royalty, she grumbles internally. She shouldn't have make herself seem small, short and gentle. But needs must.

  


Madara's hands are folded together under his sleeves, a kunai in one in the event this strange naga is a threat. 

  


His people live in the foothills of the mountains, the nearby forest and fields providing them with all the food, medicine and iron they need; they only rarely venture out to ply their trade in other regions. Even the river that would normally connect them to the rest of civilization is a violent offshoot of the river's main branch, full of virtually impassible rapids.

  


Visitors are rare - non-human ones, even rarer. Most people passing by here are thieves and brigands, leading Madara to exercise great caution as to whom he extends hospitality.

  


But this naga doesn't seem to be either of those - and Madara has more reason than most to think well of naga.

  


"Please rise, naga-sama," he says, equally polite. "We do not require excessive etiquette in our humble village. With your promise not to harm us, we are happy to offer you our hospitality - and there's always room for another medic." 

  


He pauses briefly, then decides to be almost painfully direct, as is his usual style. "How long would you like to stay? A few days before you continue travelling? A season? We'd be willing to let you stay either way, but it'd make a difference as to where we'd put you up."

  


She peeks up at him from under her lashes, the very tips of her tongue emerging to taste his truth under the guise of licking her lips. He's not lying, surprisingly, she tastes no deception and her heat pits see no spike in temperature that would otherwise give him away.

  


Tobirama straightens and lifts her head, rewarding his honesty with the meeting of eyes. He seems well equipped to deal with any issues, the cool of sharp metal hidden in the folds of his clothes easily visible to her.

  


"A seasons stay would be more than ideal, ningen-sama. I had not hoped for such generosity."

  


She slips a little closer, extending a slender, clean hand with practically short nails. She sees his eyes stray down to her chest, but Tobirama is unbothered by male stares, she is perfectly comfortable with her own defensive capabilities.

  


The human shakes her hand, gentle and brief. Tobirama removes a cloth capped vial, and exercises an age old right of trust, discreetly bringing her fangs to bare through the seal and allowing her venom to flow until her cheeks hollow a little as her venom sacs empty themselves. 

  


She presents the vial of yellow liquid to the human, a means to make an antidote should she break her word. It leaves her as defenseless for the next few days as a naga can be.

  


Contained within the glass, is enough venom to kill all in the village several times over. It is her pride, her identity, unique and signature to Tobirama alone.

  


She presents it with a small bow, licking away the final drop from her lip.

  


"This nagina is called Tobirama."

  


Madara is somewhat taken aback when the naga (nagina, apparently?) proceeds to empty her venom into a vial - presumably so that they can make an antidote in advance, in the event she should bite someone. 

  


It seems a little...unnecessary, to his mind, but after a moment's thought it occurs to him that he once heard a reference to something like this, a formal greeting given by nagas. It's only that his home is so very far away from the capital, from the larger cities, from the famous regions known for their inhumans, that they don't know the custom.

  


He keeps his head, however, and accepts the vial politely, slipping it into his pocket for later analysis. "Welcome, Tobirama. I am called Uchiha Madara; I'm the head of the village. There's a villa available where you can stay - come with me, I'll show you where it is."

  


He turns, gesturing, and leads her into the village. "We have market days twice a week," he tells her, "and there's a few taverns for storytelling and drinking at night. The laundry is over there..."

  


It's the same spiel he'd give any visitor planning on staying for a season, with a few additions regarding medical regulations (mostly designed to keep away salesmen peddling fake cures). 

  


The villa he shows her to is small, but not noticeably smaller than any of the others: it has a well and a courtyard, and the back opens up to a small vegetable garden with a small (albeit currently empty) fishpond, all only a small fence away from the forest it backs into. The house is neat and tidy, having by luck been cleaned only a few weeks back; there hasn't been time for the dust to really accumulate.

  


It's certainly nicer than the villa across the way, which is overgrown with vines and bushes and trees poking their heads out of windows - a veritable jungle, more garden than house and more eyesore than both.

  


Madara makes a point of not looking at it.

  


"Here is where you'll be staying," he says. "Let me know if you have any questions."

  


Tobirama takes careful note of the places of importance, of the people who pause in their work to look at her. They seem surprised, but there is no disgust in their eyes, no hands tightening on butchers knives.

  


The house Madara presents her with a beautiful little home, far from luxury but equally distanced from squalor. It's--quaint, yes that's the perfect word, shingle roofed and with plenty of gardening space. Clean and obviously well loved.

  


She thanks him, parting with another gentle handshake, and Tobirama watches him lift the bottle of her venom to his eye as he leaves. A curious human, this Madara Uchiha.

  


She slips in, flicking the door closed behind her with her tail.

  


"A nest. Finally," she sighs to herself, loosening the restrictive outer layer of her kimono. The floorboards are wood, sun warmed in patches, and she shudders with pleasure when she brushes over them with her coils.

  


Tobirama lifts herself, massaging her belly against the warmth, coiling her twenty-some meters of flat, triangular body into the patches of sun as she tastes the air of her new nest. Bland, scentless, perfect.

  


Finally she lets her pheromones loose, pressing them into the wood of the floor as she explores her home, filling it with her hallmark perfume as she goes. The bedroom buts up against the garden, and the shoji doors span the length of the wall. Tobirama lets her pack fall. 

  


Taking out the seal scrolls of her belongings, she unseals her bed. It's perhaps a little cumbersome, a large spongy bowl, but she could not bear to leave it behind.

  


It's the first of the rooms to receive her personal touch, and all that she doesn't have can be bought, traded for, or caught. The bathroom is a pleasant surprise, the tub almost excessively large for a villa of this size, but just big enough for her to squeeze into.

  


Washing is made heavenly by warm water, seemingly pumped from a natural spring. A surprising opulence for such a small village, she muses, but isn't about to complain.

  


The sun sets on the nagina slipping into her bath, rubbing breasts and shoulders sore from the hurried binding, white coils making islands in the steaming water.

  


Tobirama stirs, woken by the warmth of the morning sunshine warming her coils. The paper screens shield her from the wind, but allow the heaven-sent heat to stir her cool blood. She sits up, body as lax as a cooked noodle with good rest.

  


Her kimono is shrugged on loosely, binding bandages entirely forgone, as she slips out into her newly acquired back garden. She stretches there, shuddering with pleasure at the pull of muscle as she inspects the garden beds.

  


The soil is good, dark and rich with forest loam, mushrooms abundant under the shadows of the rocks at the base of the low fence. There's plenty to eat already, most of the weeds are not weeds at all, but rather overgrown berries and herbs.

  


She has all she needs, and a streak through the house and a rushed dressing later, Tobirama lifts her coin purse to tuck into her sleeves. Her rattle is sheathed in leather, removing the danger of her blades from others and simultaneously keeping them sharp.

  


The market is a dream, full of new scents to sample and smiles that are honest and true. Tobirama’s head is drawn every which way by wares she likes, but the nagina is a responsible young woman and takes only what she needs.

  


She's just unlocking her door when a sudden embrace sends her tumbling over the threshold, tail tangling with strange scales.

  


Coming down from the mountain with a bag bulging with new herbs that he'd gathered, Hashirama heard from five different people that there was a new naga in town - a nagina, no less - and he hurried home much faster, where he'd normally linger in the town.

  


He's never met another of his own kind, not since he hatched from the egg, and he's unbelievably excited about it. 

  


His excitement peaks when he sees her: a young lady, wearing a pretty kimono with a sakura blossom print. She's pale, with white hair and red eyes and red marks on her cheeks, and she's lovely, but what he really cares about is her lower half: a long, sleek scaled tail, with no pattern but with ridges on each side. 

  


It really is another naga!

  


Hashirama can't repress his exuberance and he throws himself forward, wrapping her into a big hug.

  


"Hi!" he exclaims. "How are you? Are you really staying here now?"

  


Tobirama writhes, doing her best to throw off the nag who seems to think it his right to tie with her without so much as introducing himself. Thick arms wind around her waist, compressing her belly as a weighty tail tangles with her own.

  


"You dare touch me like that!" She snaps, twisting her head to look at him, sheets of starlight hair unfolding from their tie and streaming down between them. "I will not stand for being manhandled in such a manner!"

  


She puts her hands against the broad span of his chest, separating them with a firm shove and pointedly extracting herself from his coils. Tobirama glares at him, righting her kimono where it seems tempted to abandon her modesty and sweeping up her scattered groceries with a length of her body.

  


The stranger peers sheepishly at her, rubbing his arm and gazing out beneath lowered lashes. Tobirama is tempted to strike at him to teach him proper manners, but settles instead for crossing her arms.

  


"And just who are you," she hisses at him, eyes drawn down to the intricate mottled green of his tail, dotted with yellow. The scales are rounder than hers, smooth and glossy. He's likely a little shorter than her, but far thicker around.

  


Even his human half is large, muscle bound under his clothing. At his waist hangs a satchel, overflowing with wild herbs.

  


"Oh, I - I'm sorry!" Hashirama exclaims, ducking his head and rubbing the back of his head. "I didn't - sorry. I was just so excited to meet another naga, so I overdid it; I didn't mean to manhandle you. Sorry. I always make a bad first impression. Can you do me a favor and just...forget the last few minutes?"

  


He raises his head and beams at her. "Let's start again," he says eagerly. "My name's Hashi, and I live in the villa across the way. I've never met another naga before, so I'm very happy to meet you. Uh, which is to say, I'm very happy to meet you, naga or not, because I'm sure you're great and...wow, I'm really bad at this."

  


Never met another naga? Not one? It sends chills down her spine that someone might abandon an egg. It's murder, pure and simple, to throw out a healthy, viable egg with an unhatched child inside, but Tobirama doesn’t draw attention to it lest she embarrass Hashi further.

  


"Well met," she says, extending her hand for him to shake. "My name is Tobirama. I'll be staying here for the foreseeable future."

  


He's certainly charming, she thinks to herself as he lifts her hand to dust a kiss over her knuckles. The slits of his pupils stutter wide in the amber of his eyes, and Tobirama graciously tips her head to break their gaze, secondary lids slipping shut for a moment.

  


Hashirama breathes a sigh of relief that she seems inclined to forgive him his boorishness. He really shouldn't have just leaped on her like that; they hadn't even been introduced!

  


"It's a pleasure to meet you," he says, kissing her hand. "I look forward to getting to know you. If there's anything you'd like to know about the town or the environment, just let me know - I'm sure Madara's given you the basic tour, but I know all the highlights."

  


He really hopes she takes him up on the offer. She's gorgeous - and even if she was the ugliest person he'd ever seen, he wouldn't really care. But it certainly makes the prospect of spending time showing her around even more fun than it would have otherwise been.

  


"I shall certainly take you up on that offer." Tobirama means it too, there is nothing quite like the comfort of one's own kind, though it would seem that much of that time will be filled teaching him propper naga manners.

  


"Now," she says, pulling away, "I'm afraid I shall have to chase you out. I have perishables to pack away, a breakfast to have and a garden to plot. Thank you for... Introducing yourself to me, Hashi. It's a comfort to know you're here, should I need anything, or for company."

  


She brushes his body out of the door with the flat of her rattle, shutting the wood between them with a firm clunk.

  


_ Men _ , she grumbles,  _ always body first _ .

  


Hashirama is a bit stunned by her brushing by him and it takes a second for him to recover, which makes him think that maybe he'd been downplaying his earlier thoughts about how he wouldn't care about how she'd look.

  


He wouldn't, really, but as it is...

  


He rushes back to town.

  


"Madara!" he wails, throwing himself on his best friend. "She's perfect!"

  


"Oh no," Izuna mutters, but Hashirama ignores him as always.

  


"Oh my gods get off me you worm!"

  


Madara does his best to wriggle out of Hashirama’s grasp, kicking uselessly when the maggot seems to take it as encouragement to lift him clear off the ground.

  


"I didn't get her for you! She came of her own accord! Do you honestly think I'd risk my neck in the illegal market to find you a pair of legs to stare at-shut up, Izuna!"

  


"She doesn't have legs," Hashirama says, sobbing happily into Madara's shoulder. "It's so great! No legs! And she's so beautiful! And nice! Forgiving! Wonderful!"

  


He spins around a bit, then stops because Madara starts making retching noises.

  


"Please don't kill my brother," Izuna says dryly. He's fiddling with something - a vial, filled with a yellow liquid...

  


"Oooooh, is that poison? Is that her poison? Why do you have her poison?"

  


Madara collects himself where Hashirama has dropped him like a sack of bad rice, dusting off his sore backside and sniffing haughtily at his friend.

  


"She gave it to me, you lump, emptied her venom glands in some odd formal greeting when I invited her in. I'm assuming it's so that humans can make antivenom for her. And it's venom, not poison. Poison is ingested, venom is injected, how do you not know this?"

  


Madara thinks it's a little archaic, but who is he to judge? He's got a very nice pot of venom out of it; all that's left to do is see what it does.

  


"Well, Izuna? Can we use it?"

  


Hashirama obediently sticks out his arm in offering. He's used as the town test subject more often than not, as he's essentially immune to everything they've been able to find, but instead Izuna bats him away.

  


"We can definitely use it," Izuna says. "But not on a friendly, not even one of Hashi's unusual resilience. Even with the antivenom, this thing is deadly - and fast. I've never seen a stronger venom."

  


"That'll be useful," Madara says. "It'll make the next few jobs easier."

  


He doesn't specify what, of course: the Uchiha might be a clan of shinobi, one of the most feared and infamously effective, but they would never let the blight and corruption of the outside world affect the peace and tranquility of their village. 

  


"She's really amazing," Hashi sighs. "Do you think it's a species difference? A family difference? Or maybe because she's female..?"

  


The others shake their heads; they know as little as he does.

  


"Well, I've offered to show her around," Hashi says. "Maybe I'll ask her!"

  


"Try not to be so -you," Izuna advises.

  


Hashirama sticks his tongue out at him.

  


"Well," says Madara once Hashirama has left, "that went better than I hoped."

  


Tobirama looks up from where she's gently pressing down some herb seeds. Hashirama waves at her, grinning, and Tobirama dusts off her hands and checks the shadows. She hadn't been aware that it'd gotten so late. The sun is at its peak, and her body is almost uncomfortably hot, ridged scales shimmering all colours in the light.

  


"Oh, hello. Let me wash my hands and change. Please, come in."

  


Hashirama lets himself in. 

  


"Don't change on my account," he says with a smile, curling up happily in the corner. "I spent all morning sorting herbs as well...do you like planting things? Are there any other seeds you would like? Our mountain has just about everything - we're actually quite famous for it, in this area."

  


It's their little claim to fame, in fact: their mountain, which grows herbs and plants of each and every variety no matter where they originated from or even what general conditions they usually prefer, has a reputation for unbelievable fertility and growth. If it wasn't for how obscure they were, Hashirama thinks they might even get some tourism money out of it - but sadly they are so obscure, a good few week's travel out of anyone's way unless they knew the shortcuts that only the Uchiha used.

  


Tobirama turns to glance at him, her hands twisting to summon water almost of their own accord. It's nothing fancy, not a fraction of her usual power, but it gets the dirt off her pale skin.

  


Her guest seems to have taken note of her earlier adverse reaction to his affections and has piled himself up in the corner submissively, giving her free reign to spread her coils over the floor.

  


"I'll need something against local poisons, and of course some wood for more mushrooms. I'd appreciate you pointing out all the good herbs to me. Perhaps we can go tomorrow? I know you've only just come back, but the market is in a few days and I'd like to prepare."

  


Tobirama’s length rubs against itself, a self hugging motion that is her only indication of shyness.

  


Hashi seems alright, so far. He hasn't taken an adverse reaction to her rejection, and seems honestly interested in helping her.

  


"Absolutely!" Hashirama says, beaming. "In fact, if you'd like, I keep my mushrooms in the caves by the mountain - you're welcome to take some of the wood I use, as well as some of the mushrooms themselves, though of course if you have your own strain I'd be more than happy to just point you towards the wood. And really, don't worry about it - I'm often going up and down the mountain, so going again is no burden at all."

  


There is, however, one thing he can't quite help her with.

  


"Local poisons might be a bit hard," he confesses. "We have - quite a lot. Like I said, our mountain is pretty famous for growing lots of things, and since medicine and poison is often just a question of quantity, well..."

  


He hesitates for a moment, wanting to ask some questions and unsure if it would be rude; he doesn't want to scare her off. But if he doesn't ask, how will he know? 

  


He decides to go for it, no matter how awkward the segue - start slow and simple, maybe, and then go for more complicated questions.

  


"I noticed you gave some of your poison to Madara," he says. "Is that something you do often, giving out samples of your venom? Or is it just a sort of - first-meeting gift?"

  


Speaking of which, the mushrooms will work well for a first-meeting gift from him, if she wants them; if not, he'll have to think of something else.

  


Tobirama pauses in her serving of tea, tongue flicking. Madara's scent is all over Hashi, and with that is the scent of another. None of her venom scent, thankfully, so there's been no violence with something that would implicate her.

  


"It's courtesy," she explains, "to give humans a venom sample when you arrive. It's a show of good faith; I will be venomless for the few days it takes them to create the antidote. Venom sharing among naga is more about sharing identity. In some of the larger nests, samples of venom are kept by families as a way to have something to remember loved ones by."

  


She sets the tea down on the kotatsu, beckoning Hashi over to join her. Tobirama keeps her coils to herself, and is glad to see him follow suit.

  


"I would be very grateful if you could spare some of your wood and mushrooms. I'm fond of cooking with them, and I'm sure you sell some with more particular effects at the market."

  


She takes a sip of her tea, body winding down, shimmering with heat to her eye, all the more relaxed for it.

  


"Perhaps... We could share wares? I see no need for competition if we ply the same trade. The poisons I can see to myself, I'm familiar enough with them to know where to look once I'm accustomed to the environment."

  


Hashirama settles down by the table and picks up the tea, delighted beyond reason just by the simple gesture of sharing a meal - and, even better, the idea of sharing wares. 

  


Sharing a stall at the market, all cozy up close together -

  


"That sounds wonderful," he says warmly. "I have a set place in the market for the days I go to sell; you're welcome to share it with me, and having another pair of hands capable of distinguishing and gathering plants would be more than welcome."

  


He didn't really need much money, but he liked making himself useful - and the time of year when young Uchiha would head out from the mountain to ply their other trade was drawing near, so there would be a greater than usual demand for poisons and medicines.

  


"I'll show you the mushrooms tomorrow; you can take a plank of whichever variety strikes your fancy - consider it a first-meeting gift from me," he adds, taking a sip of the tea. "Maybe you can show me how you did the venom sample; I've never done it before - certainly not until empty."

  


He's unselfconscious about his ignorance, seeing no reason to be ashamed by something that wasn't his fault.

  


He's completely ignorant, she realises, as unfamiliar as a hatchling. Tobirama weighs her options; she desperately wants to ask, but doesn't want to insult the only fellow naga here.

  


Ultimately she decides Hashi seems the easy going kind, and that if she does offend him, she can always apologise.

  


"If I may... did you have no nest mate to show you? You said you've not met another naga before, but surely you must have had at least one parent to teach you how to feed and shed?"

  


A denial on his account would be... Devastating. Tobirama, who has struggled to clutch for years now and has always come up with infertile eggs (if any at all), could not bear the thought of abandoning a hatchling.

  


"No, it's just me," Hashirama says with a shrug and a smile. He'd been sad about it as a child, of course, but the wound of being alone - being abandoned - had long since healed over into a scar, and anyway his personality wasn't one that lingered long in sadness. "You really are the first naga I've met."

  


That seemed a little insufficient, now that he thinks about it - he's never really had to tell this story, all of his fellow villagers are very familiar with it - but for Tobirama he's more than happy to make an effort.

  


He likes that she's interested in hearing about him.

  


"I have a few memories from before my egg hatched," he explains. "Mostly of being named, once I reached the stage of viability and hatching only a matter of time. But after that I was sent away - I think I was put into the river? - and I didn't hatch until after I was carried all the way here, and there haven't been non-humans this far into the mountains in decades, so it's really just been me."

  


No, wait, that sounds lonely, which isn't right either.

  


"Madara's the closest I have to a nest-mate," he explains. "And he - tries, you know; whenever he goes out to the more crowded areas, he brings back stories of nagas and such. But it's mostly human stories, and none of us really trusted them, you know?"

  


After all, the stories people told about the Uchiha were frankly ridiculous - red-eyed demons destined for madness and destruction - and those were only stories about fellow humans. No, they'd never trusted any of the tales.

  


Tobirama bites her lip, needle teeth drawing beads of blood in her anger. She's always had a fearsome temper, and though she does her very best to curb her sharp tongue, her anger gets the best of her.

  


"It's absolutely disgraceful," she hisses rattle filling the air and muscles shuddering around her empty venom glands, "of a naga pair to abandon a viable egg! You were named! To throw you into a river- you could have drowned, the egg could have torn!"

  


She jerks her head to the side, knocking over her tea in anger and hissing when the liquid scalds her. She pulls her burned arm away, shooing the spilt tea into the sink with an irritable wave of her hand before she takes a deep breath and tries to calm herself.

  


"Forgive me, it's not my place to make remarks. I just-hatchlings are so important to us, it's so difficult to clutch properly for some. The thought of throwing a healthy egg into the river is... Deeply upsetting."

  


Her cheeks tingle, and Tobirama knows her face is pink with anger. She licks the blood off her lips and makes an irritable noise down at the already forming blister.

  


"I am glad the humans could offer you a home, and that you have a nest mate who does his best by you."

  


"You're really pretty when you're angry," Hashirama says, because he's an idiot, and then he coughs and wishes he had developed any sort of filter at all. "Sorry - ignore me, please. I don't mean to make light of it."

  


To make up for it, he reaches out his hand to take hers, the familiar light green light gently emanating from his hands as he soothes the burn away.

  


"Children are very important," he agrees. "I've never understood it, myself. Why my parents did what they did - well. There's nothing I can do about it: nothing I could do then, nothing I can do now. I'm happy here. One day, maybe I'll travel back to the inlands to see if I can meet some other naga to find out who they were, ask them why...but it's not a rush. Like I said, I'm happy here. Madara's a very good nest-mate - his temper's all for show, he's sweet as honey on the inside, especially when it comes to children. He'd probably be the first to agree with you...except he'd probably try to stab my parents rather than ask them."

  


"I'm hardly inclined to disagree," she grumbles, pouting. Tobirama has never been called pretty before; fearsome, frightening, yes-but never pretty. It makes her blush harder, and she rubs her cheeks to chase away the tingling.

  


I really did give a lot, she thinks, stroking to feel how much hollower they are. She will need to feed soon, something rich and protein heavy to speed along her venom production. Even without the help, she'd be back to full almost within a week, but she doesn't want to strain her body.

  


"I'd be glad to show you how to press, though it's not very different from envenoming prey. All that makes it uncomfortable is the fabric, though I've heard others complain about straining their muscles even though I've not suffered it myself."

  


She smiles softly at him in thanks, a light lift of the corners of her lips as she strokes a hand over healed skin.

  


"Your iryo is remarkable, there's not even any irritation. You have real talent, I've met many masters who can't achieve such a flawless result."

  


"I'd be delighted for you to show me," Hashirama says, glad for the change in subject. "I must admit, I don't usually use venom to bring down prey - it's not very strong, certainly nothing in comparison to yours; is that a gender difference? Or something else? I'm sorry if the question seems stupid; I barely know where to begin asking...anyway, my venom is more of a paralytic than anything fatal. It's easier to just snap their necks with a squeeze, you know..?"

  


Maybe she doesn't. Maybe that's just him, being stupid and too-human and uncultured...gosh, he really hopes he's not making a bad impression on her.

  


Lucky for him, she seems to think his iryo jutsu is pretty good. Which, well, it had better be; he's the town doctor (albeit part-time - the Uchiha are as healthy as horses) for a reason.

  


"I like healing," he tells her. "Iryo jutsus come pretty naturally to me -"

  


Second only to growing things.

  


"- and I like the mechanical process, too: finding the right herbs, mixing up medicines, applying them...it's very fulfilling. I function as the town doctor, when I'm free, though I've mostly picked up what I know through trial and error, and sometimes from lessons from passing doctors - I'd love to learn whatever you're willing to teach."

  


Tobirama dips her head and hides her mouth behind her hand. She tries to muffle it, but the laughter creeps up on her, and Tobirama just manages to restrain it to a gentle titter rather than outright laughing in Hashi's face.

  


"Yes," she gasps, "I know. A lot of nag prefer to do it that way, and it works fine for nagina too. Venom is mostly for defence, but it makes an easy hunt sometimes; a bite and then I can wait a bit and track it later. But yes, it's more potent for nagina, though it varies from one to another. It also has some to do with diet."

  


"I won't be of much help with iryou jutsu, it's not my greatest strength and I don't have much talent for more than scans, I'm afraid. Certainly not as much of a natural flair for it as you. I can help with the natural things; I'm well versed in toxins and antidotes. I'm willing to teach you, and to answer any questions you may have about anything else."

  


Tobirama pours herself another cup of tea, surprised by her own willingness to help. But then again, he's practically an overgrown hatchling.

  


"When some of my venom has returned, I will show you how to press. But first I must feed."(edited)

  


Hashirama can't help but grin when he sees her laugh - even if it's at him, he likes the way her eyes crinkle up and the irrepressible laughter. He's never minded being the butt of the joke.

  


"I know, I know, stupid questions," he says, shaking his head. "But thank you for answer. It's good to know - and I'll definitely take you up on your offer to learn about toxins. I'm pretty good with plant-based toxins, so if you know anything about animal-based ones, that would fill the gap in my knowledge perfectly..."

  


Then he brightens. "Oh, are you hungry? I'd be happy to get you something - do you want noodles or rice? Or meat? I have traps."

  


Technically only a little bit of a lie - the entire forest is one giant trap, in his hands - but he's learned through hard experience (and lots of yelling by Madara) that he's not supposed to talk about the Mokuton. It's a rare skill, and people have called him a monster for using it, suspected him of all sorts of unnatural practices to gain power, never believing him when he protests that the power is natural to him, inborn. 

  


He's not going to risk Tobirama rejecting him for such a stupid reason. 

  


So while he's eager to prove himself to her, it's easier to just pretend that he set up traps specifically for animals, rather than manufacturing one at need the way he usually does. Still, if she wants some meat...

  


He does a quick mental scan.

  


"Would venison do? I have one trap that's pretty reliable," he offers. "I could get you a nice buck."

  


Tobirama smiles at him. It's easy to return such an infectious grin, and Hashi has just met her, so he won't know that princesses don't smile. Instead of lingering on it, she nods.

  


Tobirama isn't exactly thin, but she will need to put on weight if she is to attempt (again, fruitlessly, hopelessly) to clutch in spring. She will halve her meals once she's gravid in order to provide as much space in her body for her eggs. Tobirama isn't a small nagina, and others of her size have laid ten to twelve eggs in a season.

  


She knows not to get her hopes up.

  


Tobirama is reaching for her leather chest harness where it hangs on the wall before she remembers that she's not alone, and that Hashi may not have meant now.

  


"Would-" she stutters, coils washing over themselves, rough scales rasping against smooth- "would you be amenable to going now?"

  


Her face burns with embarrassment at her inconsideration, and she turns her gaze away in a pretense of checking the afternoon light.

  


“Absolutely!" Hashirama exclaims, beaming and rising up a little in an instinctive sort of arch. "I'm not doing anything better, and anyway the traps need to be checked -"

  


He's pretty sure that's a thing.

  


"- so, yeah, now is fine. Good. Great, even. I don't really have much of a set schedule anyway, so it's no matter to me." 

  


He's not totally oblivious, he can tell she suddenly got uncomfortable for a second, but he's not entirely sure why - maybe because she's getting changed? Yeah, that might be it.

  


"I can wait outside if you like?"

  


"No, it's alright. This goes on over my clothes, not under."

  


She wraps the corset of it around her waist, loose enough to be comfortable. It's there to protect her soft belly, after all, not to look good. Her breasts present their usual problem, and Tobirama gathers the soft flesh carefully and guides it into the leather cups, tugging the top straps a little to ensure they're positioned comfortably and wont fall out before she closes the last of the clips.

  


The gloves come on last. Tobirama is actually rather fond of her soft, dainty hands and is determined to protect them.

  


"Alright," she says, opening the door for the both of them and gesturing him out, "let's go."

  


It would be extremely rude to stare at the enticing sight Tobirama makes, gathering up her breasts in her hands, especially since she's clearly not making any effort to be seductive, so Hashirama mentally punches himself a few times until he's capable of behaving himself again.

  


He smiles and nods, ducking out through the door and leading her up the mountain. His Mokuton reaches ahead of them, picking a nice groove full of deer to weave a snare in - the buck is dead before it even notices the swaying roots growing out of the ground, the other deer scattered at once, and so when Hashirama leads Tobirama into the clearing about ten minutes later, the body is waiting for them, still fresh and mostly untouched.

  


"I'll get it," Hashirama says, hurrying over to tug the deer out of the not-entirely-real trap before Tobirama pays it too much attention. "Good size. Do you want to take it back home or build a fire here? My mushroom caves aren't far, either..."

  


The woods are alive with chakra, and it's almost enough to disguise the pulses of power that streak in waves before Hashi. She watches him, sees how his body shifts over the freshly disturbed soil in an effort to hide his power.

  


Tobirama would frown, would call him out on it if it didn't give away her own sensory skill. It's a little early to decide, she thinks to herself, tipping her head with a coy smile, but he has potential. Tobirama watches the muscles cord under his shirt, the shift of his tail to accommodate the effortless way he picks up a fully grown buck. I'm not as adverse to this as I should be.

  


"I think, seeing as we're here, you might as well take me to your cave. we can build a fire there, and while the deer roasts I can take a look around."

  


She nudges him with a length of her tail, the gentlest brush and push, to urge him into motion.

  


Hashirama is a fully grown naga, or at least he's pretty sure he is; he's dated women before, albeit human ones, and they were very lovely, very beautiful, and in view of that fact he ought to be a little bit more mature about this whole situation.

  


Not, you know, shivering happily at the slightest brush of a tail against his own.

  


Oh, well. Like Madara says, Hashirama's always been a bit of an idiot in love. Also an idiot the rest of the time, with the exceptions of healing and fighting, but even more so in the realm of romantic endeavors.

  


Still: he might like Tobirama, but she was pretty clear early on that she was not interested in return - while he's still hopeful to overcoming that in time, he knows from experience with human women that these things take time, and the more time devoted early on, the better the results. He's not going to ruin what might be a good thing by being too aggressive - and if, in the end, she's still not interested, he'll accept it with grace.

  


"Follow me, then," he says, leading her over to one of his caves. He grew up in these mountains, with little to fill his time - he has quite a few mushroom groves all around, though he's pruned the number a little after Madara complained of eating nothing but mushrooms for three weeks straight.

  


This cave is one of his favorites: it's very big and deep, with a nice sandy area up front that's comfortable for lounging in without disturbing the rows and rows of neatly organized wooden planks on which the mushrooms grow. He has six varieties in this particular cave, all divided up by type and sectioned off into the parts of the cave that most help them grow.

  


Tobirama pauses in the sandy cave mouth. She casts Hashi a quick glance, but he's inspecting the wood piles that seem swarmed with mushrooms. All in all, Tobirama casts her shy nature and highborn manners aside, and rolls.

  


The sand feels wonderful on her scales, gritty enough to polish but smooth enough not to scratch. It's warm from the afternoon sun, and a little sigh escapes as she wriggles her belly scales just for that special feeling. There's a lot of vegetation here, so a soft patch of sand is hard to come by. She'll certainly be coming back.

  


Tobirama glances up, catching Hashi's surprised gaze, and ducks her head. "My apologies, that was rude of me." She straightens, joining him next to a healthy pile of shiitake mushrooms as she tries to ignore the burn on her cheeks. The culture looks healthy, fresh and plump, and Tobirama takes her fill, no more than one or two a plank.

  


There are other mushrooms here too, all edible, and she selects a few from each pile. Hashi offers her a plank to take home, but Tobirama turns him down.

  


"I'm sure we can come up again together when I need more?"

  


"We definitely can," Hashirama agrees. "And you're also welcome to come up yourself if you'd like to bask in the sand - it's one of the reasons I like this cave, so you really shouldn't feel like it's rude to enjoy yourself."

  


He smiles, a little ruefully. "I'm afraid I don't actually have any manners - Madara will confirm that that's as applicable to human manners, which I was raised with, as to naga manners, which I wasn't - so there really isn't very much I consider to be rude. So, you know, consider that both a warning and apology in advance on my side, and an offer that you feel free to do whatever you like without worrying about me taking offense."

  


She'd looked so pretty in the sand, making happy little sighs that he's not thinking about right now - those sorts of thoughts are best contemplated at length later, when he's all alone. When it won't be offensive to her.

  


By the time Tobirama is done selecting her mushrooms, the deer is largely done roasting - Hashirama had rubbed on a few spices that he'd had in his pouch, so the smell was fragrant. He hopes she likes it.

  


The afternoon has shaded into dusk, and the warmth of the fire is a gentle hand caressing her side when she settles at it's edge. She's actually rather glad that she was able to stay out this long, in good company with whom she is free to be herself.

  


Hashi is... odd. Not unpleasantly so, but there are many things that are unique to him. He's surprisingly soft to her, a sweet, gentle nag who seems overjoyed simply by sharing space with her. She doesn't have to talk, he seems content to tell her all sort of stories about his time growing up with humans.

  


Her scales hush over the sand, and Tobirama reclines among her coils with a sigh and loosens her harness. It's nice to be able to take a deep breath, leather worn akin to a coat over her shoulders. Her breasts, too, are happy to be free, and Tobirama rubs away the ache on their undersides.

  


Hashirama is half-reared across the flames, pained gold and emerald by their light. Her tongue tastes the air, scent so much sharper than it is through her blunt human nose.

  


"That smells divine."

  


Hashirama beams, instinctively mimicking her in tasting the scent on the air. It really does smell pretty good. 

  


"Let's hope it tastes as good as it looks," he says happily, pulling out a paring knife and cutting off meat for both of them.

  


It tastes good to him, but every once in a while he's distinctly aware that he's never left his mountain range, for better or for worse, and that people from the cities sometimes consider him little better than a savage.

  


Tobirama takes a tentative first bite. She... trusts him, and she would scent his venom on it if it were there, but she's been cautious for too long to abandon it now.

  


A little nibble is all it takes for her to be pleasantly surprised. Tobirama makes a noise of pleased surprise, and digs in with relish. It's simple, as seasoning goes, but the flavors are well selected.

  


"This is fantastic," she tells him in between bites, hardly bothering to chew and swallowing strips of meat far larger than any human could manage. Tobirama peeks at him from under her lashes, smiling and licking away a drop of juice that escapes.

  


She hums happily, wriggling a little deeper into the sand with a sigh and fixing her attention on her food. Her tail extends, almost without her knowledge, to lay the base of her rattle under his.

  


Hashirama is - reduced to sheer unthinking joy, watching Tobirama eat happily. Even though it was no effort at all, he feels a swell of pride for having provided properly, making sure she feels happy, safe, secure. 

  


Also, her tail is touching his and he's pretty sure that's just a casual gesture, an equivalent to the sort of elbow nudge that friendly-but-not-especially-close acquaintances do while at the bar together, but his heart is beating at twice the speed and he's forced to fight back several extremely stupid thoughts about taking her hand or rubbing up his tail against hers.

  


She's just so lovely. He always knew he was lucky - lucky to have survived the river, lucky to have found Madara, lucky to be accepted and happy - but he'd never known his luck was so good as to let him meet someone like Tobirama.

  


"So, what's your specialization, medically?" he asks, determined to make a good impression. "Do you follow any particular school?"

  


Tobirama meets his eyes through the flames, licking her fingers and re-centering her focus.

  


"I dabbled in a little of everything in the beginning, though as I got older and my venom settled into its adult strain poisons drew my attention. Not just for killing, but also the way some toxins counter others. Ways to get certain effects without others, or without death. You might say I like experimenting. I push the natural world to see what it gives me, and while I work with chakra as well, most of my medicine comes from animal toxins."

  


She's happy to have someone to discuss it with. It hadn't exactly been a shameful thing to do among her family, and it inevitably led to her reputation as a nagina not to be meddled with among her kind, but they would rather she do... other things. Feminine, gentle, nest-like things.

  


Tobirama is actually rather glad she's not human, lest she have been entirely forbidden from experimenting in favor of a more homely life.

  


Hashirama successfully puts aside his unnecessary fixation on the way she just licked her fingers in favor of scientific discussion. "That's great! I do similar experimentation - contrasting chemical reactions, researching unknown benefits or side effects, figuring out how consistently certain reactions can be generated, all sorts, although my emphasis is on plant-based toxins."

  


He likes plants. He always has.

  


"We should do some work together sometime," he adds, and he means it sincerely; it really isn't just an excuse to make time together. "It may be that my methods are different from yours, and we can uncover new results. Not to mention the possibilities of combining animal and plant toxins to reach as of yet undiscovered results..."

  


Gorgeous and brilliant. She's probably already married or engaged or has a long-term boyfriend or something. He's still going to try, because he'd hate himself if he didn't, but he really should mentally prepare for failure now.

  


"Though, uh, I'm a bit random when it comes to some of my experiments," he warns a little shamefacedly. "I'm sure I can apply appropriate scientific rigor if that would be better for you, though..."

  


Would it be weird if he offered to be her test subject? Probably that would be weird.

  


"I think that's a stellar idea. I look forward to working with you."

  


It's nothing but the truth, too, and Tobirama mulls it over as they return to the village. He bids her farewell, and this time when he kisses her hand she lifts his in turn chins it. It's not entirely a friendly gesture, but Tobirama isn't too upset about lying by omission when she simply smiles and closes the door between them.

  


She's never chinned anyone before. It's an intimate gesture, to rub her pheromones on his skin, on his hand, where her scent will trail after him all night. No, she thinks, not even a hint of regret.

  


Her bed is soft after a day out, and Tobirama rolls onto her back to play with the scales around the opening of her sex. Now that she's spent time with him, and had time to think about it, Hashi is a very promising prospective mate despite being a little odd. Tobirama casts out her senses, and across the way is that power again, verdant and green, blazing like a long galaxy where Hashi's body must be. 

  


With any luck, between that interesting power in him and the tales of fertility that shroud the mountain, she will clutch this season.

  


Hashirama was planning on going to Madara's for dinner, as he usually does, but for some reason he can smell her, stronger than ever, and that necessitates a detour to his own residence to, uh, take care of some issues that have - arisen.

  


Fuck, he wasn't even this randy as an adolescent; he can't stop thinking about her. The sharp clever personality, the graceful way she carries herself, her lovely face - that body - those breasts...

  


He's an animal, he concludes. A horrible, lustful animal. A dog, maybe, or a goat; he'll have to double down on his efforts to restrain himself and act like a regular person who can court someone the normal way, rather than just leap all over her and-

  


Another short, but very passionate, pause later, it occurs to Hashirama that he may be a little in love.

  


He can't wait to see her again.

  


"You're late."

  


It's unusual for Hashirama to be this late, and given that there's a new, highly venomous nagina in town and his best friend's manner are nowhere to be seen on the best of days, Madara had cause to worry.

  


"Have you been drinking again? I told you not to brew on your own, you look punch drunk. Your eyes aren't even fully open, have you been smoking?"

  


Hashirama looks rather out of it, and he doesn't even attempt to crush Madara in a 'hug' as he usually would. Instead his naga friend trails lazily down the hall and piles himself loosely at the kotatsu.

  


"Alright," he grumbles as he sits, "what's gotten into you?"

  


“I'm in love," Hashirama announces, dramatically swooning into Madara's lap. He's still feeling lazy and happy, sated for the moment. "Madara, Tobirama is - amazing. Perfect. She's beautiful and she's brilliant and she likes poisons and gardening and...I really like her."

  


He pauses, considers, then repeats, with emphasis, "Madara, I really like her."

  


Madara frowns down at the lazy worm that has become such a frequent fixture in his home. He doesn't want to be a wet blanket, but Hashirama had 'really liked' a lot of girls. Of course, this one isn't going to run screaming (mostly because she can't run, which means she's going to bite instead).

  


"And just what have you been doing to give you such a firm opinion on her? Nothing stupid, I hope?"

  


"No! I was very polite, okay? I showed her one of my mushroom caves and gave her some planks, caught a deer and cooked it for her, and we talked about science. Very restrained. Nothing too much."

  


Hashirama closes his eyes, thinking of her and smiling. "She's different, Madara - and not just because she's a nagina. She's - she's great. I like her so much!"

  


The smile spreads to Madara, and somewhere in the background Izuna makes a noise of disgust and complains that he can feel all the emotions from here. Madara and Hashirama magnanimously ignore him.

  


"I'm glad you like her. I'm not going to say that this was my intention when I let her in, but it was a motivating factor. I don't want you to be alone for the rest of your life. You want a partner, and a nest of vipers all your own, and I understand that. Just as long as you understand that I'm not babysitting. You've bitten me plenty."

  


Hashirama giggles. "Oh, that would be so cute - I can just see you, covered in little snakelets, green and white...oh, I hope she wants kids. I'd love kids. Eggs! We would have eggs, Madara, enough to fill a nest -"

  


He suddenly sits straight up, eyes going wide. "Nest! Madara, I need to make a nest - just in case, I won't put pressure - oh, it needs to be perfect. Full of soft fabrics, properly secure, good scents...!"

  


He'd liked a lot of women, given his general friendly nature, but he'd only ever made a nest for two - both of whom rejected him, for varying levels of heartbreak. The first had been his first love, little more than a crush; he hadn't known what he was doing when he'd started putting it together, and she would've had every right to laugh in his face when he shyly presented it to her. She'd been kind, though, and explained very politely that it wasn't how humans did their courting, and also that she was three times his age and very happily married. She'd also suggested, very nicely, that he wait until he was fully grown before making any more nests for people. 

  


The second time - wasn't worth thinking of. Certainly not in front of Madara, whose eyes still went red with rage at the memory of that extremely low time in Hashirama's life.

  


This was different, though: Hashi was sure of it. Tobirama would love his nest, if he did a good enough job putting it together.

  


"Hashi, now, there's no rush, she's here for a season at least, I'm sure you have-"

  


Madara is talking to empty air, lap suddenly empty.

  


"All the time in the world. Oh my gods this man is such a disaster."

  
  


Tobirama yawns, fangs flexing and shuddering. She props herself up, stretching her body and realigning her jaw. She's languid with sleep, warm with the remnants of her dream. Hopefully it's a good omen.

  


A nest. A nest full of white, healthy eggs. Nothing like her only previous clutch of dull, empty grey shells and a mess of egg yolks that had stained her bedding. She shakes her head, unwilling to let the hurt of past experiences cast a pall on her dream.

  


She's just washing up, clad in a loose yukata, when there's movement in the window opposite hers. Hashi's tail, or what she can see of it, shakes the branch of the tree growing out of what must be his kitchen. There's something else, further in, that Tobirama can't quite make out with the morning sunshine in her sensitive eyes.

  


"Hashi?''

  


She calls out tentatively, stretching her own body out of the window to bridge the gap between their houses.

  


"Hashi? Do you need help?"

  


"No, I'm good!" he calls back. "Just - rearranging something. And possibly having a little game of tug-of-war with a juvenile willow tree, but that's pretty common for me!"

  


He doesn't want her to see the nest yet - Madara's constant scolding about impulsiveness, he is aware that you don't just present a nest to someone. He needs time to win her over.

  


Not to mention find out what she likes.

  


"Do you want to go to the market later today?" he calls.

  


"Yes, I'm sure that could-oh my gods!"

  


She catches him just in time, the small branch (far too small to support his weight) breaks, and Tobirama grabs his coil with her own, carefully shifting them to rest together on the branch supported by the windowsill.

  


He's warm, to her at least, still bed-cool and getting her first touch of sunshine.

  


"I'm sure that could be arranged. Would you like to go purely for pleasure, of will there be business involved?"

  


She moves subconsciously, massaging his body with her own, rubbing their scales together as she tries to peer in to see what he's doing.

  


Hashirama quickly moves to block her view, but generally doesn't resist being shifted over to her branch. She's rubbing up against him, cool and smooth, and he has to remind himself at least three times that he's not, in fact, a goat, before he can finally get ahold of himself enough to respond like a rational person.

  


"Just for fun," he says. "I was thinking you might enjoy seeing what the market has to offer before deciding on exactly what you want to sell - though of course there's always a brisk trade in medical advice, and all the associated pharmaceuticals. Besides, shopping is fun!"

  


Tobirama laughs, easing her weight away and down onto the windowsill where Hashirama can see her without her looking in. He's obviously attending something private in there, and Tobirama is the last person to make a habit of prying, so she leaves him be.

  


"Should I change?"

  


She's not wearing anything fancy, quite the opposite really. A yukata in deep green, and no matter how she tugs at the plunging neckline it remains determined to reveal a slip of her cleavage. Which is actually fantastic for haggling. Tobirama isn't above using her looks to bring wares down to reasonable prices, and she twists to make a sort of 'shelf' with her body.

  


She rests her elbows on the hard scales of her back, uses her hands to frame her face alongside her loose long hair, and flutters her eyelashes at where Hashirama is emerging. Her position ensures maximum cleavage without it looking cheap.

  


"Or will I do as I am?"

  


"You are perfect," Hashirama says solemnly. "A goddess descending to earth, or possibly rising up from beneath, whichever you prefer."

  


It may come out a bit more heartfelt than he means it to at this stage, so he cracks a grin and adds, "Also, if you keep that pose, I will personally purchase everything you want at the market, assuming that all the vendors don't fall over themselves to give it to you for free - which I assume is the point. But seriously, you look fine."

  


He offers her an arm and leads her towards the market. He really does intend to buy her some things, but he's also curious to see what thing she likes - and he would never interfere with someone who enjoys haggling. He thinks Tobirama is the sort of person who would glory in it.

  


Tobirama laughs at his sincerity, tucking her hand into the crook of his elbow and lowers herself to a comfortable shoulder height.

  


They move to the market in a thoughtlessly synchronized oscillating twists, a smooth white and green river of scales. Her rattle, held aloft to keep it from scraping on the ground, taps against his every once in a while.

  


The market is alive with people. Most are Uchiha, pale of skin and dark of hair. They seem eager to approach Hashi, and curious enough of her. She's never met humans so open with their affections around naga. It's most evident in the children, who flock to him by the dozen, all begging and pleading for a seat on his tail.

  


Tobirama keeps half an eye on them as she peruses the stalls, and her mind superimposes a writhing nest of green and white hatchlings, all jostling for the best spots to hold. She blinks, cheeks burning, but doesn't turn away.

  


Hashirama is trying very hard to make a good impression on Tobirama, but he really can't help himself when a child makes sad eyes at him, which is how he ends up distributing treats out of his runsack (he always keeps some there, and the village kids all know it, too) and placing several of them at various spaces on his tail. 

  


And then on his shoulders, when he runs out of space.

  


"Do you mind?" he asks Tobirama a little helplessly, dangling one giggling child under each arm. "They're - a little spoiled. My fault entirely. They won't make much noise -"

  


All of the children, as if on cue, burst out into cries upon seeing a tanghulu merchant walk by, and Hashirama is practically rolled into the street to buy them all some.

  


After a few minutes he comes back.

  


"...kids," he offers, because, well, what else can be said. "Just - kids. Do you like that kimono you're holding? It'll look lovely against your skin."

  


"I don't mind in the least."

  


The children are all entirely charming, mischievous and free spirited, and Tobirama laughs openly when they bully him over to manipulate more food out of him. He looks... like a father. A human father, the polar opposite of what is the norm for a naga. She smiles at his half hidden pleasure, catching him with a coil to drag him close.

  


"Yes," she says, narrowing her eyes at the merchant who is going to start sweating soon if the way his body is practically aglow is any indication.

  


Tobirama nuzzles down against the cool cotton, enjoying the softness of it against her cheeks, and slants Hashirama a glance out of the corner of her eye.

  


"Yes, this for me."

  


She pulls another kimono our from under the first holding the collar up against his throat as she tips her head.

  


"And this for you."

  


Hashirama blinks, looking down at it. "For me?"

  


He never really understood much about clothing - there's a reason Madara throws his hands in the air whenever Hashirama tries to show up at a formal event - but he's more than happy to defer to others. Even if Tobirama's having a joke at his expense, he won't mind.

  


"What do you think, kids?" he asks, twisting his torso to show it to them.

  


Cheers of approval, so it must not be that bad.

  


"Okay, then," he says, laughing. "By vote of the majority...I'll take it. And I'll pay for her's as well. Put it on my tab."

  


He's saved the lives of everyone in this village a dozen times over - he's entitled to a running tab.

  


Tobirama pulls back in surprise.

  


"That... I've never had a nag buy me something before- no, no, I'm not offended. You've done nothing wrong. It's just not happened to me before. Thank you."

  


She chins his purchase before giving it to him, a continuation of her 'friendly gesture' and as a way so show any passing naga (you never know), that she's interested in him.

  


She guides him to a stall that sells minerals and spices, sifting through them carefully and explaining the uses she's found for them as she goes. As a gift she buys a pound of apple seeds, with the promise to show him how to harvest the arsenic from them later.

  


"Where next? Tea and then some more shopping?"

  


Hashirama has difficulty believing no one has ever bought such a pretty girl gifts before, but he's more than happy to help make up for it. 

  


It helps that he really does think shopping is fun, and Tobirama is a particularly fun person to shop with - she likes explaining the uses she's found for spices and minerals, and he's able to occasionally surprise her by already knowing about it or even suggesting a use that she's unfamiliar with. 

  


He would appreciate help on how to harvest arsenic, though. It's so useful, and he always gets so tired having to grow so many apples - there's a limit to how much apple pie a person can make.

  


"Tea sounds good," he says agreeably, turning to lead the way. "Here, come with me - you don't want to go through the front entrance there."

  


He shows her the side entrance to a little garden, surrounded by trees and water features, filled with lotus blossoms. There's a tea table in the middle, and a very large mat all around, with little dips dug in all the way around in a way that's just perfect for a naga to be able to settle down in.

  


Technically, Hashirama is their only naga guest, but the owners of the tea shop once swore a life-debt to him - long story - and they made this just for him, in the hopes that he would eventually be able to bring another of his kind here to drink tea together in the shade.

  


They also have very, very good tea.

  


"Would you like to pour, or shall I?" Hashirama asks. "I may not know my manners, but I'm perfectly adequate at a proper tea ceremony."

  


Tobirama drags her attention back to him, blinking in surprise at the tea that's materialized in his hands. She's hardly one to be inattentive, but her surroundings beget attention. It was very obviously made with naga in mind, every dip in the floor carved with long coils in mind.

  


"Please, go ahead."

  


He is very well versed in tea ceremony, and Tobirama uses it as an excuse to study the strength of his hands and the flecks of brown and green in his eyes. He sets her cup gently in her hand, perfectly steeped at the right temperature so as not to burn the delicate leaves.

  


"Thank you. I- this is all very new to me."

  


Has he charmed other nagina like this? Is this something humans do as friends? Naga courting is less so in the material of things and more firmly rooted in the body. Tobirama knows all about how to twist her body into the most desirable pattern, is well versed in the meanings of caresses. She is a connoisseur of pheromones, an expert at how to lay out her scent to bring men flocking to her for a mating ball.

  


This. This is all new.

  


"Surely not," Hashirama says, blinking a little. "You're such excellent company; has no one treated you before..? Tell me, is there a habit in your country for nags to blind themselves prior to puberty or something...?"

  


Such a gorgeous nagina must have a dozen suitors. Either she's had very bad luck, or they were all terminally stupid.

  


Still: what can he say? He can't just come out and ask her to marry him, no matter how much he's inclined to do just that.

  


For one thing, the nest still isn't ready.

  


So, a little reluctantly, he changes the subject, opting instead to ask her more questions about arsenic, and to offer a description of his own favorite poison (wolfsbane, which she isn't familiar with). 

  


"Once we're back on the street, I'll show you where my - where our stall usually is." He likes that. He likes it being their stall. "If there's anything you'd like to change, please don't feel shy - I acknowledge being far from the most aesthetically minded."

  


Tobirama is a little taken aback by the bold statement, but soon Hashirama is side tracking her with all sorts of new information about a poison she's not heard of yet, and the comment is forgotten.

  


She suggests some minor adjustments in the set up of the stall once Hashi explains the arrangement of goods, and how he could use color to draw attention to certain areas and hide others. All in all he seems to be doing really well for himself, and Tobirama tells him as much. Her last stop is a little vendor off in the corner, where she buys herself the gift of three nishiki-koi.

  


"One in honor of each of my nest mates, and one for me. I'm the eldest, so mine is the largest."

  


"I look forward to working with you," she says earnestly. It's shading toward afternoon already, and she's agreed to come home with him and show him her method of working.

  


Hashi is an attentive student, if a little clumsy in his excitement. More than once Tobirama throws a coil over his hands or around his waist to stop him from doing something, but all in all he's very good at following instructions.

  


The afternoon closes with a steaming cup of tea sprawled in Hashi's garden, and Tobirama smiles up at him from where she's languishing on her side.

  


"Thank you for today," she trails a length of her flank against his. She's still unsure whether his interactions with her are purely friendly, but Tobirama is not in the habit of giving in. She caresses him lightly for a moment, a hint of her interest, before hugging her coils to her chest.

  


"I really enjoyed spending time with you. You spoil me far more than you do the children."

  


Today was - perfect. A date with a pretty lady, good business advice, tea in the garden late into the evening...and now Tobirama is pressed up close for a long moment, and Hashirama stops being able to think.

  


"I love spoiling you," he says absently, brain still somewhere back with her coil against his. "It's my honor to be able to - if we could do this again forever, I would be happy."

  


Wait, shit, did he just say that? Do not propose marriage on the first date. 

  


Change the subject! Change the subject!

  


"Do you want children?" he blurts out instead of anything actually sensible. "Uh, I mean - in general - I like kids."

  


Noooooooo.

  


She smiles at the admission, but his next question steals it away.

  


Tobirama tries to fight the habitual melancholy that arises around the subject of children. She lowers her head, eyes drifting down to where their bodies are almost side by side. Her hand skims absently to stroke over the swell of her breast, a fiddling motion of comfort.

  


"I... am very fond of children. I've wanted a clutch of my own for many years now, almost since I came of breeding age. But- I've had... trouble conceiving. I've only managed to produce eggs once, and it- they were nothing but infertile shells."

  


She glares down at her length, shifting it and wriggling it against the grass.

  


"It's my weak genes. My albinism makes me a pathetic nagina."

  


Hashirama flinches at the sadness in her voice and face. He hadn't meant to bring down the mood so much - it was only that he knew himself, he knew what he could do, and kids...well, kids weren't a maybe option with him.

  


But he didn't mean to make her sad.

  


Acting purely out of instinct, forgetting everything but the need to comfort her, he reaches over and takes her hand in his. "You're far from pathetic," he says firmly. "You're beautiful and brilliant; I've been stunned near senseless from the first moment I met you. Your albinism doesn't make you pathetic - nothing would, nothing could. The fact that you have had difficulty having children isn't a character flaw."

  


I could have children with you, he wants to say, but luckily he realizes what a self-serving thing that would be to say. 

  


"There are a lot of herbs on this mountain that can help with fertility," he says instead, because she should have the right to have a clutch even without him, no matter if it would be the easiest way - no matter how much he suddenly loves the idea, wants it desperately, wants her to be heavy and gravid, curled around their eggs, little hatchlings in green and white. "Rare ones, ones that aren't found elsewhere. I know quite a few of them; as much as I like poisons, I'm much better at the healing arts. Let me try to help, okay?"

  


Tobirama smiles up at him, pulling his hand close to smooth it over her scales. Hashi is sincere, soft and welcoming in a way that no nag has been with her before. She looks at their hands, fingers intertwined, his copper skin against her pale scales.

  


"Thank you."

  


It’s tempting, so very tempting, and with her guard lowered by his gentle touch, it's too tempting to resist.

  


Tobirama shifts, prowling over to him and up the length of his body. She settles her own against his, curving her coils to fill every dip and space where Hashi's body has looped itselt, before she rests her chest and head against a section of tail butting up against his chest.

  


He's thicker than she is, rounder. He's also somewhat warmer, and she flexes her body to press them close.

  


"Please, just a moment like this. I've not had the touch of a nest mate or a partner in comfort for a while now. I'll only be a few minutes, and this obligates you to nothing."

  


She turns to look at him where he seems to tower above her, tipping her chin and frowning beseechingly.

  


"Please, Hashi, just a moment of this?"

  


Hashirama is not an idiot - possibly a masochist, given that he's going to agree to snuggle but make no further move, but not an idiot.

  


"Take as long as you like," he says, his voice dropping deep and comforting. He instinctively leans his head onto hers, rubbing her hair lightly with his chin, leaving a little bit of his scent on her - only a light amount, not enough to stake a claim or anything, but enough to be comforting, he hopes. 

  


He brings his arms around her, resting them gently on her back and side, careful not to let them drift anywhere they shouldn't, and he mentally reviews his list of libidio killers like he's reciting a sutra with the intention of ascending to be a Buddha. 

  


It's the only way he's going to survive this.

  


She's just so - she's so soft, so beautiful; so many sharp edges, such clever brilliance, such perfection. He doesn't even know what to do with her other than prostrate himself in sheer worship.

  


"Any comfort I can give, I am happy to," he murmurs. "Stay as long as you like."

  


Stay forever.

  


"Mmmm keep talking. I can feel your voice inside me. It's so deep, I really like it."

  


Tobirama huddles down into his arms, rubbing her chin repetitively over his vellum soft scales as she holds the coil close. She pays no attention to what she's saying or doing, mind disentangling the stress of earlier and body relaxing into Hashi's hold.

  


He tells her about Madara, and the younger Uchiha, Izuna. Of their friendly competitions skipping stones and pushing each other into the river. She listens, hissing laughter every now and again.

  


Finally the shadows of autumn evenings reach out to them with spindly fingers, and Tobirama sits up in Hashi's coils.

  


"Let me show you how to press, and then we can bid each other farewell for the evening."

  


Hashirama nods. He probably would have agreed no matter what she said at this point - he's positively starstruck. 

  


Starstruck, and extremely turned on.

  


In fact, now that she's no longer in his arms he feels bereft, at a loss for words, so he just settles into a learning posture and smiles at her.

  
  


Tobirama piles her body-warmed coils loosely so that she can sit up. Out of a storage scroll in her satchel she summons two pressing vials, and presents one to Hashi.

  


Her mouth opens wide so that Hashi can see what she's doing, and her finger length fangs extend. They're still sheathed, attached to the roof of her mouth with delicate skin and tendons. Tobirama hooks them into the middle of the drum-taught fabric, and slowly bites down.

  


Her fangs emerge through the cloth, bare white needles, already beading murky yellow venom at the tips. Her pink lips hug the glass, forming a plush background of red against the white fangs. She's not pressing for ritualistic purposes, and withdraws after two or three drops.

  


"Let's see you try," she says, setting the little vial down, flicking her tongue and realigning her jaws. "My fangs are likely quite a bit longer than yours, so you may not need to open as wide."(edited)

  


Hashirama watches carefully, then tries to mimic it - they've had poison masters in town before and they were able to help extract Hashirama's poison, but it had been painful and they'd grabbed his head a lot. This would be much cleaner.

  


His own fangs are indeed much shorter, and he has some trouble getting the venom to flow at first - Tobirama ends up reaching over to put her hands on his neck, a gentle massage, and then the venom comes more freely, letting there be a number of drops into the vial before he needed to pull back.

  


"Thank you," he says, smiling at her. "I usually needed to be knocked out for extractions, so this is - this is good. Very good. Much better."

  


He doesn't linger much longer, bidding Tobirama farewell. "I'm going to go into the mountains to look for some of those herbs I mentioned," he tells her, holding her hand briefly at the doorway as she shows him out. "Some are obscure, so I'll probably be gone a few days - I'll try to come back and see you the day before the next market? That way we can prepare for selling."

  


Tobirama has a sudden errand of her own to run. She watches Hashirama disappear into the brush, before turning her head and tasting the air. The scent she seeks is easily untangled from the threads of daily life.

  


Madara doesn't live alone. The other person that has left his scent on the Uchiha's clothes is also here, likely a relative. She can hear them talking, but they're too muffled for her to distinguish words. Tobirama debates a less direct approach for a moment, before ultimately deciding she doesn't want to scare them or put herself in danger of the unknown.

  


Instead she sticks her torso in through the kitchen window, turning to face where Madara has his hands in the sink.

  


"Good evening," and over Madara's screeching and flailing, easily snagging the kunai that's flung at her head, "may I have a word, please?"

  


"Yes, you may," Madara says, clutching at his chest and glaring. "Provided you never do that again - I just managed to teach Hashi not to do that -"

  


Izuna is sniggering, and he bows politely to Tobirama before retreating to leave them to talk.

  


"It's late and I have a door, you know," Madara tells Tobirama a little irritably, but his annoyance is soothed by thinking that this nagina really will be a good match for Hashi. "You can use it next time. Now: what is it you want to discuss?"

  


Tobirama flows in through the window as a scaled river, heavy body almost silent as she stretches it out in Madara's kitchen. She takes in her surroundings, kunai a spinning blur around her dainty index finger. She flicks it up into the rafters.

  


"I know you have a door. I saw it. It was closed; but your window was open and I could taste you inside. Summoning you to the door by knocking would have been a waste of time."

  


Tobirama moves a little closer, body undulating so that there is no way for Madara to attempt to leave without putting himself within coils reach. She holds up the little vial of Hashi's venom, and lifts a brow.

  


"I was told that the usual procedure is to knock him out to get this. Why?"

  


Madara blinks, then looks at the venom. "Because my now-deceased father was an asshole, mostly," he says, recognizing it and scowling. He gets why she's asking and he's pleased that she's showing concern over Hashi, which is the only reason he's not stabbing her for being a bitch about it. "And now, as a consequence, Hashi gets panic attacks whenever he tries to donate. Which he does pretty regularly, even though I've told him a hundred times that we did without it before and can do without it again. But will he listen? No."

  


He rubs his brow. "His venom is an excellent paralytic and a critical part of emergency medical treatment or used in other lifesaving circumstances, so he insists on donating. But we don't really know a good method of extraction other than the one we learned when he was a kid, and he hates it. Do you know what a naga having a panic attack is like? Coils everywhere. Since he wouldn't stop donating, the only alternative was knocking him out."

  


He crosses his arms and glares. "So, now that you're done accusing me of abusing my best friend, anything else you'd like to discuss?"

  


It's only years of highborn training that keeps Tobirama from deflating sheepishly. She's glad it's not what she thought it was, and softens her own stare as she collects her length into a neater pile.

  


"Just one other thing. How did he come to learn about fertility herbs? It's hardly something that he could use, and most are species specific. Is he engaged? I've not seen or tasted another nagina in the area. Is Hashi arranged to be married?"

  


Uncommon among naga, but not unheard-of. Tobirama herself has turned down many proposals in her time in her mother's nest.

  


Madara can't help a bark of laughter. "Hashi? No, no, he's very, very single," he says, amused. "But he's also the go-to fertility doctor for the entire region, humans, animals, everything, so he's made a habit of reading up on it. As if he even needs herbs! As if we don't have an overabundance of children and livestock every spring as it is because he just forgets...!"

  


He shakes his head, fond but exasperated. "How did you get on the subject of fertility herbs anyway?"

  


Hopefully Hashi didn't do anything dumb like ask her to carry eggs for him or something. They've only just met!

  


Tobirama's jaw clenches, and she's half tempted to tell Madara to mind his own bloody business,but he's been helpful and forthcoming so far. She sees no harm in being honest.

  


"I-," this is her first time telling a human, admitting to such a huge flaw, "I've had... Trouble conceiving."

  


She feels no better admitting it, feels worse now that it's out there in the open. Perhaps Madara is going to exile her. Tobirama is well aware he's probably only taken her in so that she and Hashi would mate. She asks him as much.

  


"Hey, no, wait," Madara says, holding up his hands. "First off, I allowed you to stay because you're a healer and we have the room. I hoped you'd hit it off with Hashi, but that's just a hope - you are absolutely welcome to stay even if you don't want anything to do with him."

  


He frowns a little. "Second, if you've had trouble conceiving, isn't that more reason to consider Hashi as a possible mate? His whole thing is life and growth - he's why our mountain has the reputation it does, after all. Having him in the vicinity is enough to encourage fertility in most people. Or animals, you don't even want to know about our livestock/pet population explosion..."

  


Here, however, his frown deepens into a scowl. "Let me make one thing clear: if you're thinking about getting together with Hashi in order to fix your fertility issues, that's fine, he's probably amenable, but you need to be clear about what you want up front, okay? Don't let him think you want a relationship when what you want is a cure. We had enough of that with that bitch from the islands; I'm not going to stand by and let Hashi's heart get broken again."

  


"I shall keep that in mind; if he his interested. Good night, Madara."

  


And with that Tobirama departs, head already full of considerations, inner joy drowning out any final words that Madara may have.

  


She doesn't recall getting home. Tobirama only comes back to herself once she's stripping for bed. Today has been unexpectedly productive. She knew there was something strange about Hashi, about that green power in his chakra- but she'd not guessed something like this. 

  


Tobirama picks at her scales, rolling and wriggling to try and get comfortable. She'll need to see if he still wants her. He'd all but leapt at her on the day of her arrival, but perhaps spending time with her has changed his mind. He held her hand, after all- is that a romantic thing humans do? 

  


She's unfamiliar with human courting, and though Hashi has the body of a naga, he has been raised among the Uchiha and has no concept of how to court Tobirama as is proper.

  


Still, the instincts should remain, I should be able to parse out whether his body is interested and go from there.

  


Hashirama comes down from the mountain three days later, several herbs and plants carefully tucked into his bag. He makes a beeline to his home garden - not the one in the front of his house, which all jokes about resembling a jungle aside, is full of pretty, useful, or sweet smelling plants meant for display, but the one in the back that Madara called, only half-jokingly, the Forest of Death.

  


Only when that's done does he allow himself to think of the person waiting for him. He wants to rush over immediately - but no, he's filthy with sweat and mud and a bit of dried blood from that one unreasonable boar he encounters. 

  


He'll bathe first, then go say hello.

  


Tobirama has always had a weakness for water; it's her element, the quickest to coax to life and the easiest to will into shape. With winter approaching, the onsen calls to her, beckoning with steamy water and the taste of minerals to soak up. Which is why that's where she is when she feels Hashi's chakra return.

  


She sighs, coils sunken and lax in the pool intended for inhuman visitors. How very lucky she is that it is a unisex area. Perfect timing, she smirks to herself, sinking down to languish under water in wait for him.

  


Hashirama's mind is so full of thoughts of her that he goes to the onsen on full automatic, stripping off and pouring a bucket of cold water over himself for a quick scrub without so much as glancing at the hot pool that's virtually always abandoned - it's virtually his private onsen, after all, given the lack of other nonhumans in town, and the only company he has is Madara when the man feels sorry for him.

  


As a result, he's already rearing up to enter the pool when he suddenly sees a blur of movement under the water.

  


Breaking up out of the water, water droplets clinging to a pale white face, white hair, white skin - sliding down curves - 

  


Hashirama's brain comes crashing to a complete and utter stop, leaving him staring vacantly with appreciation at the sight in front of him.

  


"Hello Hashi! You're back!"

  


She may be a little more enthusiastic about the greeting than is her norm, but... Tobirama has missed him. The sudden absence of someone to talk to when before meeting him she would never have been bothered had surprised even her. But no matter, if all goes well then I won't be lonely again.

  


"How was your trip? Did you find anything interesting?"

  


As she speaks, Tobirama slips a coil out of the warm water, caressing his side with her own and gripping cool muscle and pulling him gently towards her.

  


"Are you alright? You feel a little cool? Please, join me."

  


Hashirama's brain is frozen in place, mind just replaying that gorgeous figure over and over again, but luckily his body is a little more aware, delighting in the feel of her scales on his and obediently following her into the water.

  


Hashirama has no idea how, a few seconds later, he ends up with an arm around her waist and her head pressed into his shoulder, but he must say he doesn't object.

  


"I'm okay," he eventually manages to say. "It was raining up on the mountain, that's the only reason I'm cool...I hope I'm not intruding?"

  


"No," she sighs, slipping an arm around him in turn and blanketing him with warm coils, "I've desired your company since you were gone. You're very relaxing to be around, and I've... missed that."

  


She's not usually this open with affection, but Tobirama knows Hashi will welcome it, and her inhibitions are loosened by hot water and some sort of sweet liquor that Mikoto had gifted her. She's far from drunk, far from tipsy, but all the same it lies warm in her belly. Rather than fight the feeling, she lets it engulf her, secondary lids slipping closed.

  


"Did you find the herbs?"

  


_ She desires me! Okay, for my company, but that's a good start - especially the way she keeps pressing up close... _

  


Hashirama finds himself leaving forward, wanting to propose a kiss to see if she would be interested, the mood feeling right - but then he smells liquor and falters.

  


Years of lessons ingrained: never propose anything when a lady has been drinking.

  


Later, he promises himself.

  


He leans back, clearing his throat. "Yes, I did, and some plants that need a little cultivation - I brought them down and replanted them. I can walk you through what I've found, if you like."

  


At her nod, he starts rambling on.

  


Tobirama listens avidly, mind alert for all her body is sluggish with the heat of the water. He's just getting to something interesting when Tobirama realizes she's feeling a little too warm, and shifts away. Her human half is quickest to cool, and it will settle the slight nausea that overheating always gives her.

  


She lifts herself out of the water, bracing her tail against Hashirama as she finds a comfortable way to settle behind the broad span of his shoulders. Tobirama shudders when the stone, not quite as warm as the water, rubs over her nipple. Naga are hardly body shy, and she encourages boldness in him by pulling Hashirama back to rest his head against her belly, tail winding up to wrap diagonally over his chest.

  


"Please, don't stop. This is very interesting, I'm just getting a little faint. No-don't, don't get up. Let me lie like this. Keep talking."

  


She grips him with her underbelly when he makes to pull away, tangling slender fingers in his messily tied hair and stroking soothingly. Safely hidden in his peripheral, Tobirama takes the opportunity to admire him. The curve of his pectorals, the strength of his shoulders, the muscle in his arms. Her fingers reach out to trace the path of her eyes, scratching lightly at the base of his skull to complete the circuit.

  


Hashirama either had fantastically good or fantastically bad karma to end up like this, but he's not going to protest.

  


Far from it, when Tobirama starts scratching his head, he makes a sound deep in his chest, indicating approval.

  


He continues explaining, finally coming to the one plant he was most proud of - he'd heard about it in a story one of the Uchiha had passed along about a herb only described in a book.

  


Tobirama sits up, twisting her body back down into the water to gaze properly at Hashi. It doesn't occur to her that she's practically seated in his lap, a coil of her body serving as a headrest at an ideal angle to force Hashi to look her in the face.

  


"I've read about that, somewhere. I disregarded it as pure conjecture, a rumor not worth chasing to disappointment, but you've found it!"

  


In a fit of joy Tobirama flings herself at him, crushing his head to her chest and embracing him within her coils. She crows with victory, tears prickling in her eyes. Free! Finally free of this disgusting flaw, if it works as it should.

  


"Thank you," she whispers, pressing repetitive, almost tearful nuzzling kisses to the top of his head. "Thank you, thank you, thankyouthankyouthankyou!"

  


She's laughing a little hysterically, but Tobirama can't find it in herself to quash her voice too quiet. Instead she flings herself back, landing with a splash in the water and hugging a length of her own tail to her chest, grinning madly at Hashi.

  


"You've done me an unforgettable service, I couldn't possibly repay you!"

  


Hashirama can't help but beam at her, though he holds up his hands in warning. "It's still maturing," he warns. "It'll be some months before it's fully ready, but I'll take you to see it whenever you like. And please, don't thank me - it's the job, you know? You're a doctor,too, you get it."

  


If she's grateful to him, he can't ask her out. It'd be like asking her to pay him back with her body, which he'd never do.

  


"Besides, it's nothing much, really! Just my luck, I guess."

  


Luck, and the Mokuton.

  


"Yes," she smiles at him, "I do know. All the same it's nice to finally have a way out, an end to my shortcomings. Even if it's just a chance, after so long, I'd try anything at all to chase even the faintest hope of having a clutch of my own."

  


She tips her head to look at him, relaxing back into the supporting water with a sigh.

  


"It's a dream come true, Hashi. Even just a fabled chance, it's really more than I could hope for."

  


She strokes a hand over the smooth scales of her underbelly, imagining it swollen gravid with eggs at last. Tobirama smiles a softer, gentler smile, just for the two of them, before she rolls back onto her front and swims to the other side of the pool to leave. The water cascades out of her hair and flows in chakra guided rivulets down her scales and skin. She gives him a last playful grin over her shoulder.

  


"I expect you for dinner. It's getting cold, and you should find someone to winter with so that you don't accidentally fall into hibernation."

  


Perhaps it's a little soon, but...

  


"My nest is open to you, i-if you'd consider such a thing. Or we could share yours! Think on it. I won't mind if you turn me down, and winter is still a ways away, so you needn't answer now. Just... I'm open to sharing warmth with you."

  


With that she leaves him, blushing all the way down to her collar bones with embarrassment. She's never offered to winter with a potential partner, and the last nag to ask had lost an arm to her bite. No going back now.

  


Hashirama just sits there, stunned, for a good five minutes before it finally sinks in. He was just invited to - share a nest. For the winter. A nest. Tobirama is open to sharing a nest. With him. Sharing warmth. Sharing...

  


He throws himself out of the onsen, coils landing on the floor, and does a frankly ridiculous happy dance.

  


Sharing warmth! Sharing a nest! That was...! He...!

  


He didn't even have words.

  


He had to tell Madara immediately - no! He had to finish the nest! No, Madara first, then nest, because he can commandeer Madara's resources into finishing the nest.

  


Oh, he hopes she'll like it. He hopes, hopes, hopes that wintering together isn't a matter of practicality - hopes that she might even - 

  


Hmm, new order of operations. Deal with the libidio, then Madara, then fixing up the next.

  


As winter draws near Tobirama becomes less and less of a morning nagina. This morning in particular seems to be the beginning of a cold snap, and Tobirama wakes to polite knocking and a stiff and sore body.

  


She tugs on a thicker yukata, lined in dense fur, and winds stiffly to her front door. A yawn strikes just as she's opening it, and Tobirama's hands come up to rub her eyes as her jaws flex wide. She does her best to hide it behind her arm, but ultimately whoever wakes her so early deserves a good look at her fangs.

  


Finally her yawn subsides, and Tobirama opens one bleary, narrow eye to find-

  


"Oh, hello Hashi. You're up early."

  


And... flowers, a wild collection of blooms, each beautiful but useful.

  


"I-oh. I've never gotten flowers before."

  


"Everyone else you ever met was an idiot, then," Hashirama says. "If you don't mind my saying so. I hope you like them."

  


He shuffles his tail a little awkwardly.

  


"I, uh...yesterday, you said..." You can do this, Hashi! "I made you a nest," he blurts out. "Would you like to see?"

  


Tobirama blinks down at him in shock. Nag... Don't build nests. The only part they play in rearing eggs is providing the seed to fertilise the nagina. But Hashi is hardly just any nag, she thinks to herself. Tobirama can always explain later, when his face isn't starting to fall with anticipated rejection. 

  


"I'd be honoured. Please," she says, slipping her hand into his, "lead the way."

  


Hashirama leads her to his house, past the crowded front part to the little-used western corner. He'd always reserved that part - the safest, with access to the forest and to a little stream - for his future mate, always dreaming of the future, and today he finally had a chance to show it to her.

  


He'd filled it with soft things, just right for nestling eggs in. Leaves woven into blankets, filled with cotton and linen, roots turned into thick and stable matts, decorated with silks and other garments that would feel good on the scales; he'd added only fresh and clean scents, nothing that might annoy a mate guarding a clutch. And on every single wall, he'd painted dozens of protective seals, designed to make the inside secure and guard against outsiders.

  


"I hope you like it," he says shyly.

  


Tobirama stares down at the nest in wonder. It's... Perfect. It tastes clean and fresh, positioned with an excellent view of all the exits. The materials are all natural, barely processed. As with everything else in Hashi's house, wood is prominent.

  


It lines the floor with living woven roots, decked in a blanket of leaves. The silk is rough spun, soft, thick and warm. The cotton will keep the nest dry and breathable, ideal for eggs. Beneath all of that lie layers of protective seals, designed to hide the nest from notice and protect it from parasites and intruders.

  


It’s only Hashi shifting nervously next to her that breaks her trance, and Tobirama is suddenly all too eager to feel the materials against her skin. She slips belly down over the rim, shuffling her scales and rocking to rub her pheromone laden gripping sides against the fabric.

  


It’s not enough. Even as her scent blooms out around them in claim, Tobirama wants more. She chins religiously, making an irritable noise when she realises there are clothes between her and her new nest.

  


The yukata is shaken off, and she presses her belly and breasts down to rub the thin, scent laden skin against the soft lining.

  


A flick of her tongue reminds her that Hashi is still there, and she shifts a coil to hide where she's practically rubbing her nipples and rutting her cloaca against his handwork.

  


"I like it. I uh... Really really like it."

  


Her face is burning, and she allows herself the escape of tucking it down under the pretence of more nuzzling.

  


"I'm...glad," Hashirama says, his voice dry and his eyes wide. His entire mind is consumed by the image of her. "I just - wow. You're just so beautiful. I can barely think when I'm looking at you, you're just - beautiful and terrifying and amazing."

  


And she likes his nest. She's willing to nest here, with him - naked and lovely, the curves of her breasts and her belly, rubbing her enticing scent over the nest he made for her, for them, rubbing her cloaca against it as well.

  


"I'm so happy that you're here," he adds. "Just - so happy. I really like you, you know."

  


"That's good. I've never been called beautiful before terrifying. I'm glad I'm not simply one or the other to you. I like you too, Hashi."

  


Not 'I love', not yet. Love is- love is something heavy, powerful, all-encompassing. Love is for... later. She grins up at him, flicks her tongue to take in the scent of hers, and of him. He's... a little too far away.

  


Tobirama sneaks a loop over his waist and up his back, drawing him down into the nest to taste their pheromones together. It's... good. Far better than anything she'd ever hoped to have. He's close now, and the tan of his skin, the brown of his hair, fills her vision.

  


"Although," she whispers, a quiet thing between the two of them, "it's usually the nagina that nests. A nag making a nest, for eggs or winter, is unheard of. But I think I prefer this, prefer you, to the norm."

  


Tobirama wants to kiss him, she wants it so badly her lips tingle. She's never had a kiss before. They look interesting, fun. Her eyes slip down, passed the prominent ridge of his nose, to soft, surprisingly full lips. Her hand moves of its own accord as she debates, exploring the defined muscle of his abdomen, petting over his clothes.

  


"I don't know how to do this. Nagina aren't kissed."

  


Hashirama is a bit surprised that nags don't nest - it'd always come so easily to him,so naturally, an overwhelming instinctual compulsion - but he puts that aside at once in the face of Tobirama pulling him in, the smell of her, of the two of them together.

  


His tongue flicks out to catch all of the scent.

  


He smiles and reaches out to cup her face with his hands. "Nagina might not be - but with your permission, you will be."

  


At her nod, he leans forward, bringing their lips together. He might not have ever mated properly, but kissing he knows, kissing he's good at. 

  


He starts slow, gentle, but quickly moves it forward - he has the feeling that Tobirama isn't the sort of person who likes to wait for what she wants.

  


Tobirama makes a noise of interest. It's just as pleasant as she'd imagined, more so, actually. She thinks she could enjoy this. Her arm slips up to curl over his shoulders, just as her tail moves to crisscross over his, shifting, lifting, manipulating Hashi's heavy body with her own for the pleasure of it. The kiss becomes more intimate, his lips pressing and molding hers in turn. It's... arousing.

  


He parts her lips, and it's a matter of habit to flick her tongue forward to taste. His tongue is there to meet hers, tangling and twisting, and Tobirama makes an unfamiliar high noise in the back of her throat. Her coils constrict around him, her hands tremble, and she has to pull away with a gasp.

  


She's... very new to this. It's an entirely new stimulus, she should be apprehensive! Instead Tobirama is wildly aroused, the culmination of touch and a nest that is beginning to mingle their scents driving her to distraction. She turns away, burying her burning face in the silky fall of her hair where it's a cool river over the crook of her arm. She's trembling, shivering like a maiden in her first season!

  


"I'm sorry," she whimpers when the smell of her arousal manages to unfurl between them. "I'm very new to this, I don't- I like it too much."

  


"I want you to like it too much," Hashirama says, leaning forward and flicking his tongue over the sensitive parts of her neck, her collarbone. "I want to see you overwhelmed with pleasure. I want to kiss you, I want to touch you...tell me when to stop and when to start, Tobirama. I'll move at your speed."

  


His hands slip onto her waist, dipping down to caress scales, but carefully within the bounds of propriety - more of a tease than anything else. An offer.

  


If Tobirama wants to stop, they'll stop. Hashirama has control over himself. 

  


But he hopes she won't want to stop.

  


Tobirama tips her head back with a sigh, finding that Hashi is there to catch her, tail slipping under her neck for support. She swallows, belly fluttering and twisting. She's been touched before, been fucked before, but never like this. Never so... attentively. It must be his human upbringing.

  


"I-I-hah," the words are barely more than breathy sighs, and her hands come to rest on his shoulders, shaking, as her heart flutters like a nervous bird behind her ribs. Tobirama wets her lips and tries again.

  


"I like this. Touch me, please, I want to, Hashi!"

  


Every inch of her is hypersensitive, every scale a tingling nerve where before there was only supple armor. She arches for him, lifting the gentle curve of her belly, soft with a thin layer of fat, up toward his fingers.

  


Her coils twist around them, shifting at the heated caresses, seeking his embrace.(edited)

Hashirama kisses her again, this time allowing his hands to drift over her body: gently cupping her breasts, thumb flicking over the nipples to see her reaction; running up her flanks, seeking sensitive locations; even bravely dipping down to run his fingers lightly along the edges of her cloaca before retreating up to her face again. 

  


His tongue makes his way into her mouth, twining with hers, and he pushes forward, letting her back rest against one of his coils as he boxes her in there to focus on kissing.

  


"Oh!"

  


Tobirama will deny for all eternity that she simpers like a virgin when his rough fingers brush over her cloaca, but she's never been touched there before. Not by fingers, at least. Naga sex is... practical, and she's come away mostly satisfied before, but nothing like this.

  


His weight settles on her, comforting without being crushing, long hair flowing over his shoulder to sequester the two of them away from the world. Tobirama watches his pupils dilate before her lids flutter closed and she gives herself over to him entirely.

  


Their tongues twine, and Tobirama has hardly any warning before he settles his cloaca against hers and she shakes apart in his arms with a cry.

  


Hashirama holds her close, his waist flexing as the sensitive skin of his cloaca - just barely starting to part - rubs up against hers. He continues kissing her: her lips, her cheek, neck, shoulder. 

  


Then he curls himself forward and puts his mouth on her breasts like he's been wanting to from the first time he saw her.

  


His forked tongue laves a trail across the sensitive underside, flicking her nipple - a remnant of the human half of nagas, given that they're a egg laying species - and as she writhes beneath him he lets one hand drift down to start petting her cloaca, gently easing it open with his fingers, careful not to go too far or too deep until she's properly open.

  


Tobirama's lips part in an 'o' of pleasure, lashes fluttering as her (surprisingly sensitive, since when?) nipples are lavished with attention. Her hand comes up to stroke over the back of his head, her cheeks tingling with a blush that must be truly fierce.

  


"Oh, oh that-that's sensitive, good-so good!"

  


Her words are breathless gasps, broken by little pants as she shivers under his attentions. Fingers trail down, and Tobirama bucks to meet them, tail twisting with pleasure until it's met with his and they twine together. 

  


He's- his fingers, even her thoughts are fuzzy with pleasure, body overpowering her mind with flashes of pleasure and sensitivity. Her tongue flicks madly, tasting the air for his answering arousal, mouth watering when the salt and musk of it coats the forks of her sensitive organ.

  


Her cloaca bloom for him, muscle tensing and parting the protective scales, opening her center to his explorations. She's terribly aroused, wet like never before, and it spills over her tail at the first constriction of lust that shudders through her passage.

  


Hashirama keeps rubbing up against her, luxuriating in the smell of her, in the way she loves, in the sounds he's coaxing out of her. 

  


"You're so beautiful," he croons. "Look at you: love the way you move for me. Arch your back - yes, like that; let me see you, let me smell you. Your scent is divine."

  


He slides one finger inside; finding her wet and open, he adds another, then starts to play around, moving them in and out, curling him, trying to see how she reacts, figure out the way she likes it. 

  


"I want to see you lost in pleasure," he says. "I want you to scream - can I taste you?"

  


The moment his second finger slips in, Tobirama's cunt clamps down like a vice, rippling and squeezing as is the nature of a nagina, beckoning and pulling greedily for more.

  


"Yes, yes-more! Aaah! Hashi!"

  


She calls out to him, arched over his tail, her own lifting her hips up, cloaca widening to reveal the pink wetness of her cunt. It feels so good to her, two thick, callused fingers that curl and move inside her.

  


Tobirama's muscle holds them, gripping and pulling, contracting around them in a desperate bid for more pleasure. Her tongue flicks, tasting her own pleasured pheromones in the air, underscored by the scent of his desire.

  


"Yes, please! I want- I need- aaaah! There!"

  


Hashirama grins and wriggles his way down her body, catching her easily with his free while continuing to move his fingers in the way he's found she likes.

  


This is one of the skills he prides himself on most, so he's happy that Tobirama is willing to let him try it, even though it's clearly not traditional.

  


He ducks his head down and lets his tongue flicker out: once to scent her, the other to taste. His tongue is strong and flexible, and he devotes time to the outside before delving in deep, never forgetting to continue his ministrations with his hands as well.

  


Tobirama's eyes roll back, secondary lid flicking closed. Her breath stutters in something like a sob, one hand patting blindly for his head as she arches. Her fingers tangle in long, silky hair, but Tobirama doesn't pull. She can't, suddenly all the muscles in her arms have turned to an odd combination of tense jelly.

  


She lifts her head, swaying, dizzy with pleasure, when there's a tickle against her cloaca. Tobirama frowns down at Hashi quizzically, tipping her head in confusion and slurs a question.

  


"Wuh, wahdareye- ah! Aaaaah! Oh-mmmmmmh!"

  


She gasps, tail thrashing as Hashi wriggles his tongue into her pussy. Her fingers twitch taught, pulling unconsciously at his hair before she lets go to yank at her own.

  


A length of her tail arches up, landing with a heavy thump against his back and wrapping mindlessly around them both, pressing him close.

  


Hashirama grins and keeps going, licking the places he's already identified as sensitive, using his fingers and tongue in equal measure.

  


He uses his tail to help steady her and frees up one hand, which he uses to catch her hand, guiding it back to his hair in silent encouragement that she should feel free to continue pulling on him if she so wished.

  


Tobirama writhes, moaning nonsensical syllables in breathless little pants. She grips him, clinging like a limpet as the waves of pleasure crash against her mind. It's too much, too sensitive, too bright-

  


Tobirama comes with a wail, cunt clenching down like a fist to grip Hashi's fingers and tongue, squeezing, contracting, fluttering. The power of her muscles forces the wetness of her orgasm out in a great gush, spurting wetly between them as she shivers, back arching.

  


Her eyes roll, her tail locks tight, and Tobirama's vision slips into blackness. She's not unconscious, there are sensations floating by, rubbing, wet noises, a stroke against her flank, and she acknowledges them with a reedy sigh.

  


Hashirama gently disengages, giving a few gentle licks to help carry her through the orgasm, rubbing her sides until her muscles start to unclench and relax. 

  


His tail slithers over to grab a wet towel from the little box he'd prepared in advance, full of hope, and he uses it to help wipe her down a little, idly kissing his way back up so that he can settle her down inside the nest and then snuggling in next to her.

  


Tobirama blinks back to full awareness a short eternity later, stretching and smiling hazily up at where Hashi is hovering over her. She feels utterly sated and relaxed, melted into the nest fibers without any hope of ever emerging again.

  


"Your face is wet," she giggles at him wiping ineffectually at the stringy stickiness smeared all around his mouth, laughing when all it does is move the sheen around. "Is this all from me?! Oh my gods you look like you've been eating sap!"

  


Hashirama laughs and dives in for a quick kiss before finishing wiping his face. "You taste delicious."

  


He settles down next to her, wrapping his arm around her. His cocks, pointedly ignored until now, are still in the sheathe through force of will; he wants, desperately, but it's enough to have been able to please his partner.

  


"I," she begins confidently, "could kill you with a single bite. Maybe two. And yet- and yet I'd do anything to keep you here, alive... close. You're the exact opposite of every other nag that I've ever met. You're so... strange, and it's wonderful!"

  


She sighs blissfully, tongue flicking as she rolls over to face him. He's gazing down at her, wide eyed and still. Tobirama pets a hand over the muscle of his neck, tracing his jugular and tucking her head in to kiss him there.

  


"I don't... This is very unusual, and I've- I'm not disappointed. I've never experienced anything like this. You," she flicks her tongue at his nose, "are an entirely singular male. I think I'm keeping you."

  


Her hand trails down to his belly, stroking the back of her slender index finger over his seam.

  


"I'm very interested in what you have to offer." Tobirama looks up just in time to catch the flash of fear in his face, amber eyes darting away, and she understands.

  


"When you are ready. I'm not going anywhere, not until I'm asked to leave. You have my word."

  


Hashirama freezes when when she touches him, then feels bad about it, but Tobirama - she's magnificent. She understands at once without needing him to say anything.

  


He pulls her close, pressing his lips to her cheek. "Thank you," he says sincerely. "I appreciate that. I don't mean to doubt you, only...give me a few days to really believe it. That you're interested. that you want to keep me...I've never - humans haven't been interested in me that way. And the last time..."

  


He trails off, not wanting to get into it. It hadn't been good - but Tobirama isn't Mito. 

  


He just needed to teach his body that.

  


"I would like it if you keep me," he concludes, quite earnestly. "And I hope that I'll be able to satisfy you in all ways soon enough."

  


But for now, he just pulls her down, wanting nothing more than to sleep with her - sleep together in their nest.

  


It's summer, and Tobirama is warm with sunshine. Her movements are sluggish over the cobblestones, heavy with the weight of eggs. She's large now, stuffed with eight lumps that bulge in the length of her body. Her eggs, finally. She loves them so much already, would give her life to defend them. She's happy.

  


There's a tug at Tobirama's tail, a pull that she feels all along her body, like the plucking of a key thread from a tapestry. She turns back, ready to tell what ever village youngster is tugging at her that they shouldn't do that because its rude-

  


The cobblestones are red. Awash with blood and fluid, sticky and glistening sickly in the sunshine. Tobirama stares. "No."

  


There they are, grey shells torn, punctured and oozing yellow venom, covered in puss and blood, scattered along the trail of her path. Tobirama's heart plunges, and her hands fly to her belly. Panic closes her throat, digs nauseating claws into her belly.

  


More red. Her fingers are sticky with it, and in the reflection of a window she catches sight of her red stained face.

  


"No! No, no no no!"

  


She's in her nest, red hands patting down her body, smearing blood where precocious bundles should be. There is only smooth white length, and Tobirama hugs her coils to her chest, searching frantically.

  


"No! I killed them! They were here and I killed them!"

  


She gathers her body, vision awash with red and white, blurred with tears as she screams until her voice fades and she can do nothing more than tremble and cry. 

  


"Where are they? Why, why, why? I killed them again!"

  


Hashirama wakes up when Tobirama starts thrashing in his arms, clearly caught in the midst of a nightmare. He sits up at once.

  


"Tobirama - Tobirama..! It's okay, wake up - it's okay..."

  


He's not sure what to do, what will help - Tobirama is crying, hugging her coils, and he grabs her hands when she tries to claw herself, sharp nails aimed at her tender belly.

  


Tobirama twists, jaw opening wide and fangs flicking forward at the hand reaching for the space where eggs should be. Her teeth sink in, thin skin giving easily to hypodermic needles. She doesn't envenomate, doesn't cling like she usually would. It's a warning, a defensive strike as her tail fills the air with a sound like rain.

  


Her breath comes in starts, choked by tears as she shifts to protect her eggs- eggs, precious eggs that she's killed. Tobirama keens, burying her head among the endless smooth body as she sobs, shaking and searching for her little ones.

  


Eventually the panic eases, her breathing slows, and Tobirama returns to sleep, face hidden under her body.

  


Hashirama, still worried, curls up defensively around her. His arm is in a rather nasty state, torn by teeth, but the pain is manageable as his healing factor kicks in; he forcibly ignores it.

  


He stays awake a while longer, making soothing noises and trying to calm her sleep. Only when she's deeply asleep does he finally relax back into sleep himself.

  


He'll see if she wants to talk about it in the morning. If not, that's fine too - everyone is entitled their own pain.

  


Tobirama wakes to footsteps, bold, loud, advancing.

  


She's hissing before her eyes open, rattle rushing. Her body twists, curving into a striking position before her eyes are fully open. She tucks the body of her nest mate in, sweeping him up gently in a loose pile as she tastes the air.

  


Her eyes land on the door, well within her seven meter strike range, and she tenses in preparation.

  


A hand, leather bound, and Tobirama rushes forward, body gliding through the air, jaws wide. Madara emerges, and Tobirama halts her strike just short of digging her fangs into his arm.

  


"Oh," she says sheepishly, arms coming up to hug her bare breasts as she realigns her jaws. 

  


"Good morning, Madara."

  


" Good morning," Madara says with as much dignity as he can manage. "Thank you for not killing me. Also, while I'm glad you and our resident overgrown noodle are getting along, I've been asked whether you intend to make this sort of noise on a regular basis so that the rest of us can decide whether to invest in soundproofing."

  


Honest conversation or pretend obliviousness? Such a tough decision.

  


"Noise?" She lifts a brow, face blank and neutral, red eyes fixed on Madara's.

  


"Oh, you know exactly what noise," Madara says archly. "And I'm pretty sure the source isn't only your new belt."

  


Hashirama was wrapped quite comfortably around Tobirama's waist, looking perfectly content in his sleep. Madara is unsurprised; 

  


Although, now that Madara looks closer...

  


"Is there a reason he has blood on him?"

  


Tobirama can't meet his eyes, and retreats meekly into the nest. She's only got a vague recollection of her moment of panic last night, though the nightmare itself is crystal clear. Her coils shift, hugging Hashi's torso, blanketing his back.

  


His own tail is a thick band of green around her midsection, gripping muscles walking occasionally in his sleep. Tobirama looks down at him, trailing a hand over the rusty streaks of dried blood. His fingers twitch, and hers twine with them almost thoughtlessly.

  


"I bit him," she whispers. "I had a panic attack last night after a nightmare woke me, and I bit him when he reached out to comfort me."

  


It's an uncomfortable weight in her chest, and her belly lurches with it.

  


"I could have killed him."

  


Madara has his doubts about that - Hashi's frankly absurd healing factor has astounded them all before, and while Izuna's tests thus far have shown an astonishing deadliness, he hasn't indicated that it's enough to trouble their Hashi baseline.

  


On the other hand, Madara doesn't want her feeling like she can act with impunity.

  


"He's not that easy to kill," he temporizes. "And he wouldn't stick around if you'd actually injured him - well, he might, he's a devoted idiot like that, but he does have a good grasp of when medical attention is required. So, uh, try not to do it again if you can."

  


He's painfully aware that it's a stupid thing to say about panic attacks.

  


"If you ever want to talk about it - consider Hashi. If for some reason that doesn't work, Mikoto. If that doesn't work either, I guess you can tell me, but I'm warning you in advance that I'm terrible at sympathy."

  


"Thank you. I doubt I'll come to you, no offence. I'm not someone in need of sympathy, and I don't think you listen well." She looks fondly down at her nest mate, who has reached out to wrap his arms around her tail and pull it close.

  


"I'm glad I'm not an enormous risk factor to him. I don't know what I'd do if I'd have inflicted irreparable damage to him." Tobirama runs her fingers through his hair, smiling fondly with warmth curling in her chest-

  


Which is of course when Hashi begins to snore.

  


She frowns, shifting his head with the length of her body so that his neck isn't twisted at such a bizarre angle, before looking back up at Madara.

  


"Are you going to tell me why I see no wound, despite the fact that I bit him?"

  


"He heals fast," Madara says dryly. "Also, see my earlier comment about talking to him about things; it's not as if he'll refuse to answer. At most, he'll pout and look sad about it for a while and then tell you anyway."

  


They've only known each other a short time, after all - if this nagina is planning on sticking around for a while, she should know what Hashi's like.

  


"I feel I should make the obligatory speech about not breaking his heart," he adds thoughtfully. "You know the one - break his heart and I'll peel you scale by scale, etc. Want to skip it and take it as read?"

  


"I'm very familiar with threatening speeches, thank you very much. I doubt you could add any variation of interest," she drawls, voice as dry and barren of emotion as the Suna sands. "I will, however, ensure that we don't disturb you or your nest mate again--don't look so surprised, I can taste Mikoto all over you."

  


Tobirama very pointedly pulls Hashi close, combing her fingers through his hair and down his belly. His skin is soft, warm with their meagre shared heat, though they're both cooler to her heat pits than Madara.

  


She wants him to wake, wants to lounge outside on the engawa and relish the autumn sunshine.

  


Hashi is starting to stir, so Madara decides to be gracious and let Tobirama have the last word - she's a guest, after all, until there are further developments - though he does glare at her as he heads back out the door. He has no interest in sticking around to see Hashi be mushy.

  


Hashirama, in turn, waits until the door shuts to let a smile curl up on his face as he opens his eyes to look up at Tobirama. "Good morning, beautiful."

  


"Good morning," she returns, face and chest flushing as she dips down to give him a shy kiss, resettling in his embrace. His arms slip around her waist, tugging her close as he leans up to skim his lips over her neck.

  


"You-ah, you kept the neighbours up," Tobirama points out, arousal flashing through her belly at the press of a broad palm to her lower back. She squirms, caught between giving in to his administrations and bringing up the uncomfortable subject of last night.

  


"I'm sorry," she says finally, turning her face away in shame when he comes up for a kiss that will no doubt melt her brain entirely. "I hurt you, and I'm sorry."

  


"Let them stay up," Hashirama says, smiling, but his smile fades to seriousness. "It's fine - as you can see, I'm all better already, and anyway it's not your fault you were having a bad dream."

  


A panic attack is a more correct description, but it was caused by the dream.

  


"If you want to talk about it, I'm willing to listen," he adds. "If you don't, or don't want to talk now, just say the word and I'll back off."

  


"I just... I like you. A lot. And my body likes you far more, is ready for far more. Naga don't co-parent, and the last male to stick around was over the moon when I couldn't--when they didn't take properly."

  


Her body moves of its own accord, twisting and curling, rubbing coil over coil for comfort. Her gripping scales walk across Hashi's body, squeezing nervous. She wants to be honest, but all the same she knows that he was raised amongst humans, who see makes abandoning clutches as something heinous.

  


"I want a nest mate for more than that, someone who wants to do more than just breed me. I want time, and commitment and I see a lot of potential in you."

  


She runs a hand over where her mind had put the gravid swell of her eggs, smiling self depreciatingly.

  


"I dreamt I was pregnant last night. I was so happy, finally, to have a mate and a clutch growing in me-but I lost them, I killed them," her throat squeezes tight, and she has to force the rest out. "I panicked and I hurt you. What if I do it again? What if sleeping next to me costs you your life? Or a limb? Will you still want me then?"

  


Hashirama doesn't respond blithely, taking her concerns seriously and considering. "Yes," he finally says. "I do. I really like you, too - I liked you from the beginning, and while I'm a little impulsive, I like you so much more than I've liked anyone else, and sooner, too."

  


He takes her hand. "I want the same thing you do - a mate, a clutch of eggs. I want to be involved. I want to stay together through thick and thin, the way humans promise to do - I want to have a partner I can trust, who I can rely on, who cares about me the way I care about them. I definitely want to co-parent, and I'm truly honored that you're considering having a family together with me. As to your question about your panic..."

  


He shrugs, a little sheepish. "I don't think that you'll kill me in a frenzy. I really don't. You might hurt me on instinct, but - I don't think it'll be more than that, and to be frank that's a risk I'm willing to take. Losing a limb would be unpleasant, yes, but..." His expression softens. "I want children too, Tobirama. Little ones that look like me, that I can play with...it's worth anything."

  


Plus, he'd just grow back the limb after a season. It'd be a pain, but it's fine. Totally worth it.

  


"Hashi," she tells him firmly, pressing him flat against the nest floor with a length of her body, "you only have two limbs. You can only afford to lose one, and I've only seen one naga that survived losing an arm to a blade. Venom isn't such a clean cut, particularly mine."

  


Tobirama knows, she's seen it several times in poachers who tried their luck with her and once in a very unlucky nag who had managed a day or two before the rotting flesh of his neck had been unable to support his head and he'd promptly drowned in his own vomit.

  


"I'm not going to watch you writhe in agony on the floor, assuming I bite an extremity that can be amputated. Even if you get treated, there's no guarantee that you'll get better. I'm not risking your life for eggs I'm beginning to think I'm just not meant to have."

  


Hashirama blinks up at her. "Uh, I mean, not to invalidate your reasonable concerns, but...well. As an initial matter, I'm extremely resistant to poisons of all varieties, and Izuna is a very good chemist; I'm sure we'll have a good antidote whipped up in no time that we can use. More importantly, I'm pretty good with amputations, actually? As long as you take off a few extra inches above where the entry point is, you're usually fine, and you can monitor the situation from there..."

  


Wait, no, he's getting distracted from the point.

  


"You're right, I only have two limbs," he says, a little puzzled. "But, I mean, if I lose one, I'm still a naga; I'll just regrow it, right? It's an annoyance, of course, having to do everything one-handed, and regrowing takes all season and Madara always throws an absolute shitfit over it, but - it's hardly as bad as you're making it sound."

  


Tobirama frowns down at him, body shifting into an embrace with the desire to shake him until he sees sense. Naga don't regrow limbs, Tobirama must have misunderstood.

  


"No," she says firmly, "You will not just regrow it. We're half snake, not half lizard; regrowing limbs is not in the cards for- what do you mean 'always throws'? Has this happened before?"

  


Tobirama has never heard of naga growing back any limbs, and has certainly never seen it with her own eyes.

  


"I think," she enunciates carefully, "that there are some very important things you've not told me."

  


Hashirama blinks again, and this time he props himself up on his elbows. "...are you sure about that?" he asks, frowning a little. "Because, I mean...I'm kind of a klutz sometimes, okay, or at least I used to be when I was younger, and sometimes, you know, things happen. You stick your hand somewhere it probably shouldn't go and whoops, suddenly you have two less fingers, or you need to get it cut off at the elbow, or, well, there was that one really unfortunate instance where it was the shoulder - very unfortunate, very embarrassing, best not to discuss the details, luckily I was able to find my arm and stick it back on again so I didn't have to waste an entire year on re-growing it - but anyway, long story short, no matter what limb, in the end it always grew back..."

  


He frowns. "The village always assumed it was because I was a naga, since obviously humans don't do - that. Are you saying that naga don't either?"

  


He'd always known he was a bit of a freak, but he hadn't realized he was that much of one. He wonders, a little gloomily, if Tobirama will choose to reconsider him as the father of her eggs now. After all, what if his freakishness was heritable?

  


"'Am I sure about that', he asks," Tobirama snarls to herself, yanking his arms up for inspection, lighting chakra sparking at her fingertips. She stimulates the nerve endings, muttering to herself.

  


"Naga certainly do not do that--just, stuck it back on! Like a set of false eyelashes! Who looked after you as a child! You don't just go around sticking your hands into traps! You could have starved, you could have been eaten, how old were you! How could they have let you out of the house!"

  


Tobirama is in a full nest mother panic, poking and prodding her mate at the thought of him mutilating himself to get out of bad situations. She's inspecting him frantically, and only subsides when Hashirama fights his way out of her writhing coils and grips her face, stilling her with a kiss.

  


"No don't-mmmmh! Mmmm..."

  


I'm still new to this, that's the only reason why I'm so weak willed against it, the thinks to herself as Hashirama traps her slimmer body with his own.

  


"I," she sniffs when he pulls away, "am not always going to be so easy to corral."

  


Hashirama grins at her. "Of course not," he says soothingly. "Just this once. Maybe twice, if I get really lucky. But really - don't worry about me! I'm fine now, I really am; I made it all the way to adulthood."

  


He laughs a little self-depreciatingly. "Mostly intact, even, though that appears to have been mostly luck. It wasn't...don't think badly of the village, okay? I grew up on the mountain, mostly on my own; I only moved to living in the village full-time when I was a little older."

  


They'd offered, once or twice, but Madara's father hadn't been very nice and at the time he had preferred the open dangers of the mountain to the hidden dangers of society, even if his extroversion had driven him to visit the village time and time again. His nightmares, when he had them, tended to focus on that: being alone, truly alone, with everyone else lost. And every once in a while, a dream of warm hands putting him into cold water and letting go -

  


His smile fades. "If you want to reconsider me as a mate, I would understand," he says. "I don't know why I can do half the things I can - a lot of it is stuff the village assumed was due to my heritage as a naga, but if that's not the case, then it may be something wrong with me, personally."

  


Tobirama makes a grumpy sort of noise in the back of her throat.

  


"Not so much something wrong, but more something right. It doesn't change the way I feel about you. I'm still-" she winds a coil over the small of his back--"interested. Nothing is going to change that short of a risk to my clutch."

  


She strokes his cheeks, smoothing her thumbs over his venom glands and admiring the cut of his cheekbone. Hashi is very handsome, but Tobirama is far more attracted to the warmth of his personality than that of his body.

  


"Is there... Anything that may put my eggs in danger? Anything else I should know about that you feel comfortable telling me now? Shall I weave some privacy seals first?"

  


"No, no need; the village knows me pretty well by now," Hashirama says, shrugging a little and flushing happily in embarrassment at the way Tobirama strokes his face. "I, uh...I mean, you must know by now that I have an affinity for plants, right? I can make them grow in all sorts of ways, especially anything relating to wood. I built a lot of the newer houses in the village, for instance. Uh, what else...I have a lot of chakra compared to most humans, and even compared to you, too? It mostly manifests as a natural knack for healing - honestly, anything growing related, I'm good at..."

  


He tenses a little. "Oh, uh. There is...one thing. That I should mention. In terms of my..."

  


Words fail him and he gestures meaningfully downwards.

  


"One of the women I liked before said I was misshapen even for a naga," he confesses unhappily. "She refused to let me touch her after she saw them, and she left not long after that."

  


Tobirama giggles, a hand drifting down to relish the smoothness of Hashi's scales. She's never met someone so shy about it before, and she understands that most males are very uptight about being a little... lacking. 

  


"There's a lot of... Diversity between nag and their equipment. I'm not going to measure you against anyone else. As long as it gets the job done, then it's perfectly alright."

  


Tobirama kisses his cheek, and then promptly hides her burning face against his chest when golden eyes soften down at her.

  


"I'm not picky. I'm actually more interested in your chakra at the moment, given that you seem perfectly capable of," she squeaks a little, "pleasing me."

  


"I am not that woman, I'm not going to leave you because of something that's out of your control. Will you... Will you let me feel? Your chakra, I mean."

  


She's quick to correct herself at the tensing of Hashi's back. Tobirama has already guiltily indulged on the verdant power she feels in him, and she's eager to explore it more, reaching out with her own senses.

  


Hashirama slowly lets himself relax a little. He's still not sure that he's normal down there - it had been a rather traumatizing experience - and he doesn't quite trust that Tobirama won't have a similar reaction once she actually sees what he looks like, but he appreciates her words nonetheless. Especially the part about diversity: he really hopes that's true and not simply kind words.

  


Though he is rather pleased about her admission that he's capable of pleasing her with or without his cocks, and he puffs up a little happily.

  


"Sure, go ahead," he says, because he's never been especially shy about his chakra even if he does usually keep it under wraps to avoid blinding the local sensors, mostly to keep Madara from complaining of a migraine. 

  


He lifts the suppression he's put on it now, his chakra blooming forth eagerly as it always does - sending thick roots to the ground and blazing along every vein in his body. Madara described it to him once as a lotus flower made of light, unfolding its petals and growing brighter and bright until it felt as though he was looking into the sun, only green and growing, the essence of springtime vitality transmuted into something usable.

  


"Oh," she murmurs, blinking futility to do her best to clear away the explosion of light and warmth like the summer sun that envelopes her. "Oh my, that's-that's..."

  


She slumps into his embrace, lashes fluttering as she sinks into the very depth of life and growth that is within Hashi. Her belly tingles, and she presses a sloppy kiss to his neck. This must be what it feels like to be drunk, she thinks, thoughts sluggish and fuzzy.

  


Her body replies immediately, her own chakra unfolding into something like a 'come hither' sensation, pheromones bursting from her skin to reel him in. Her nipples peak, skin tingling with every eddy of power that washes over her.

  


Her tongue flicks, slow and indulgent in tasting him, and she swears she tastes his chakra, fresh and clean, like ginger and mint and citrus rolled into one.

  


"Oh-Hashi," she mewls arching as the knot in her belly snaps within moments, cloaca still closed and yet incapable of damming the flood of her pleasure that leaks out in sticky trails.

  


Hashi isn't a sensor and he's usually fine with that, but watching Tobirama undulate in front of him, eyes heavily lidded with pleasure as an absolutely delicious scent rises up off of her, calling him forward, and yet before he can do anything she's shaking in his arms, a sort of movement already familiar to him from yesterday, and he's left blinking and surprised.

  


"Tobirama...?" he asks hesitantly, leaning down to kiss her lightly. He's happy, of course, that he can please her - he's just not sure how he did so. 

  


It isn't as though he did anything special.

  


"Mmmmm mm-moment, not here now, s-so nice," she flops back onto his coils, dizzy with the aftermath of her pleasure, heavy and sated.

  


She's so out of it she doesn't even move when Madara comes storming back in clutching an oversized war fan, blinking up at him through eyes turned blood Red by overblown pupils. Her tongue flicks, sneaking sideways and licking her lips as she stares down (up? Is she upside down?) at him.

  


"Go way," she slurs, waving a listless hand at him, entirely uncaring of the way her breasts jiggle out in the open. One eye slips closed entirely, and Tobirama glares in his general direction with the remaining eye, clear lid already slipped down.

  


"Hashi, did you poison her?!"

  


"No!" Hashirama yelps, quickly helping Tobirama back up by gathering her into his arms protectively. "She's - happy. It's fine. Don't ask."

  


Madara looks at him suspiciously. "Is this -"

  


"I did not accidentally grow anything that would make her high," Hashirama says firmly. "I haven't done that in -" 

  


He'd like to say years, but months is probably more correct.

  


"- a while. I don't know, okay? She just asked to see my chakra; she's a sensor, like you. Now go away, okay?"

  


"You-" Madara starts before his activated Sharingan is drawn down to the clear stirky mess glittering just under the beginning of Tobirama’s scales- "you disgust me! Can't you do this in the evening like a normal person! Or without putting the whole village on high alert! Have you no sense of propriety!"

  


Tobirama hisses with annoyance at the loud words, curling up around Hashi and wrapping his torso in her coils. She bares her fangs, mouth stretching wide to shoo the irritating two-legs out of her nest.

  


"You're ruining my mood! Get out of my nest!"

  


At last Madara goes, huffing and puffing and grumbling to himself all the while.

  


Tobirama turns back to her mate, puffing a little with pride and leaning in for a kiss. She messes it up a little, tongue sneaking out habitually and accidentally licking his lips instead.

  


"Again."

  


"Tell me what I did," Hashirama says helplessly, kissing her back eagerly. "I mean - was it the chakra? Madara never had this reaction..."

  


Still, he's game to try: he circulates his chakra once more, this time careful not to let it spill over into something the whole village can see, focusing it much more on Tobirama herself - trying to pass along everything he feels when he sees her: the wonder, the delight, the admiration.

  


His chakra curls around her, almost as if he were planning on using it for something, but instead he just lets it sit there, at the ready, hoping that Tobirama likes his display.

  


"Mmmmm yes, like that, like that a lot," she moans, eyes rolling back with pleasure as the condensed power of her mate caresses her body. It's perfect, sensual as it strokes over every inch of her sinuous body.

  


It’s a nag's true mating display, a serpentine caress made of chakra, rubbing, brushing, tingling along her length. It speaks to Tobirama’s deepest instincts, a wild call to her snake blood, a male fit to mate and seeking permission to sire her brood.

  


Tobirama revels in it, allowing Hashi's body to twine with hers once it moves to mirror the motions of his aura. She arches for him, nipples stiff peaks between them, moaning her approval.

  


He has her permission, has earned the stay of her venomous bite. She's receptive to the mating, even though no eggs will come of it just yet. Her cloaca blooms, scales parting with a slick noise. She presses against him, makes a noise of interest when his spurs tickle her delicate underbelly.

  


"Hashi," she sighs against his lips, gripping scales curling around to walk against his underside, smearing her lust enticingly between them.

  


Hashirama is only mortal; he's not able - or interested - in resisting such a tempting display.

  


"I've got you," he says, twining around her and grasping her closely so that their bodies rub together. His own cloaca starts tentatively opening a little, spurred on by the contact and the pheromones rolling off of Tobirama, but Hashirama easily restrains himself to merely enjoying the friction. "I've got you..."

  


He drops his hand down, slides his fingers right where she needs him. She's still hot from her last orgasm, and with the combination of his fingers and the flares of his chakra, it's easy enough to bring her to the peak once more, sending her straight into a second orgasm.

  


"Aaaah!"

  


Tobirama tips her head back, crying out with pleasure at the spread of two fingers. She's still so sensitive, nerves alight with pleasure, and her cunt ripples to life. The muscles tug and squeeze, milking him insistently for seed she knows won't come yet.

  


"I want, I-oh! Mmmmh!"

  


Tobirama sighs, slumping into his hold. She turns her head to nuzzle him, tongue flicking to taste his skin. She wants to please him in turn, but she doesn't know how. She feels... Self serving. So after she comes down from her high, she asks him.

  


"How- I want to help you too but... I'm not sure how?"

  


"...kiss my neck," Hashirama says, rolling the two of them over so that he can rub up further against her. "Just - touch me. I'll do the rest."

  


It doesn't take long, even keeping his cocks hidden inside his sheath; Tobirama smells divine, ripe and tempting like she's nearing the mating season, and he can't rid his mind of thoughts of her: the look of her, the feel of her, the thought of her, gravid with his eggs -

  


He shudders in a dry orgasm, panting against her skin as she pets his back and his hair.

  


Tobirama curls around him, puffing with pride as Hashi shivers and shudders under him. She flicks her tongue, tastes the salt of his pleasure in the air. She tracks it down the length of his body to his cloaca.

  


His seam shudders under her touch, and Tobirama kisses the soft scales there. She nuzzles him, rubs the scent glands of her chin over him and leaves the oily slick of her pheromones over his slit in claim.

  


He is hers now, her mate, claimed here in her nest where she will clutch for him.

  


Hashirama shivers his way into a second peak not long after his first, and pulls Tobirama up into his arms. "You're perfect," he says, nuzzling her. "Absolutely perfect. Really."

  


He's almost tempted to give in, to try to take her, show her his cocks, but - well, mating season is so close. It won't change anything, they're not animals that go into heat or anything, but she'll be more receptive, the process will be easier. And maybe she will really accept him even without the slight additional urges of the season, but he'd rather wait the short amount of time to put the odds in his favor.

  


"If there's anything else you want to know about me, you may have to ask," he adds, thinking back to their earlier conversation. "I don't know enough about nagas to know what is and isn't normal. For instance, I'm pretty sure the poison resistance is weird, if only because Izuna keeps making noises about it, but what do I know?"

  


"No," she says honestly, "there's nothing else. Resistance to poison is a little strange, but I've come to understand that you are just unique."

  


She cuddles up to him, smiling.

  


"Though I would certainly enjoy seeing this power over plants in action."

  


He does show her, and they spend the winter comfortably ensconced in the nest but for invitations to dinner at Madara's. But time is not stagnant, and the seasons change again. Winter loosens its grip, and Tobirama's breeding shed is upon them.

  


Hashirama is in a good mood. Tobirama is enclosed in a private place, shedding her skin; when she's done, they have plans to go to a retreat up in the mountains, just the two of them.

  


Madara had insisted.

  


Hashirama smirks a little, thinking of it, but he doesn't disagree; the idea sounds splendid. Now that the snows have cleared away, he can show Tobirama all the places he grew up as a child - the clear lake, the gentle streams, the wild forests, the deep caves. He's certain she'll love it.

  


And then - well, he'd be lying if he wasn't also looking forward to the other part of it.

  


Mating. Eggs. 

  


Yes, he's in a good mood.

  


Naturally, that's when someone runs up to him and tells him - what?!

  


Tobirama sighs, resplendent coils shifting among the twenty some meters of freshly shed skin. The cave Hashirama had shown her was perfect, fed by the stream that ran through the rice fields, a little pool where she could soak to loosen her skin, jagged rocks to help scrape it off and damp air to stop it from drying out.

  


She hisses at the shushing of approaching scales, eyes alert and clear for the fist time in a week, inner lids freshly shed. Even her fangs are new, and she bares them now as the nag shimmies up to her.

  


"Hello White Demon. What an attractive nagina you've become."

  


Kakuzu smirks at her, and Tobirama watches him approach, rearing and alert. She hisses, but doesn't strike as he initiates his courting, rattle vibrating when he presses his suit too quickly.

  


He's just beginning to attempt twining them, hands stroking over Tobirama’s scales and hissing as Tobirama shifts away, when Hashirama bursts in.

  


Hashirama has exactly enough time to remember that Tobirama is a fearsome, deadly serpent who doesn't need to be defended before his body takes the decision out of his hands and charges forward.

  


The strange nag backs off before Hashirama can rip him off of her the way he wants to, probably because twining is a vulnerable position he doesn't want to be caught in.

  


"I'm pretty sure the lady isn't interested," Hashirama says as politely as he can manage, though his somewhat level tone doesn't disguise the way his hackles are raised or how he's arched in a threatening pose, tail turned around in attack readiness. "I suggest you back off before she demonstrates as much; you wouldn't like a taste of her poison."

  


He's always been taught not to fight over girls, but if Tobirama gives him the nod, he will be delighted to thrash this interloper on her behalf. 

  


He doesn't care that this is only the second naga he's ever met. Tobirama deserves better - and she's chosen him.

  


"Tobirama," Kakuzu begins, hissing irritably when the challenger blocks his view, "where did you find one so clueless about the customs of our kind?"

  


"It is not your place to question whom I mate with when you have yet to win the right to court me."

  


Kakuzu gives her a flat look over. He knows she doesn't carry, knows she can't, but all the same his suiton mask could do with the heart of a renowned master such as herself.

  


He shrugs off his haori, revealing the masks and threads in all their glory, as well as where they crisscross into the dull rattlesnake pattern on his back. "This hasn't been decided yet. It's my right to fight for you. You couldn't possibly be so far removed from your position that you'd abandon our customs Nest Princess. Your parents would be proud of such an illustrious seasons' first twining."

  


Tobirama narrows her eyes at Kakuzu, but turns her attention to Hashi instead when he turns half way to look at her. She nods, brushing their tails together in a brief show of favor.

  


"It is custom for males to fight for the right to court. I will still have the final say over whether I mate or not, but he isn't lying."

  


She nods encouragingly at him, and when Hashi surprises them all by streaking forward, she trails her fingers over the smooth scales of his back.

  


A small part of Hashirama's mind - the part that isn't focused on wanting to fight - is relieved: he's always been aggressive around women he likes, almost excessively so, and among humans that's generally considered being a beast; it's a relief to know that his instincts have a purpose, that his stumbling, stuttering explanation to Madara that his fighting and threats were meant to show how much he cared made sense, that it wasn't him but rather his instincts.

  


But that's only a small part: the rest of him has put aside such petty concerns, and focused on fighting.

  


The strange nag arches up into a threat pose, which Hashirama thinks is pretty dumb - sure, it looks impressive, but there's no reason to do it in close quarters because it opens you up to a punch in the snout.

  


And hey, well, if the guy's offering himself up...

  


Hashirama's arms are very strong after years of carting himself up and down the mountain, climbing places no naga ought to reach through sheer stupid determination and helping with human harvests; he's never been more proud of it than when his fist connects with the other nag's cheek forcing him to stagger a few feet back with a shocked expression on his face.

  


"You little mannerless cur! That's how you want to play it, fine!"

  


The Earth Grudge Fear erupts from his back, and the masks clack with eagerness for the fight. Kakuzu snarls, hands diving for his challengers throat. He hisses, flinging coils and threads at his opponent.

  


Tobirama stares as the males posture and battle for her, a part deep inside thrumming with pride that she has attracted two powerful nag who fight to lay with her. She shifts, coils rubbing to release her pheromones and spur the males on.

  


Hashirama doesn't even blink at the bizarre explosion of both coils and threads, his hands moving in familiar hand-signs that he's almost left off using entirely in his normal day-to-day but which are useful for when he wants that green power inside him to really make an effort.

  


He's showing off for his girl, after all. Why wouldn't he do the best he can do?

  


He stands perfectly still in place, not flinching as the other nag's tail swings towards him, as the threads shoot towards his limbs and his heart, and just as they're only a few feet away -

  


The entire world rumbles.

  


The other nag, caught off balance, stumbles a little, delaying his attack, and that's all the opportunity Hashirama needs for the Mokuton to really come to life.

  


A thousand wooden arms shoot out from the earth, an unspeakably massive wooden figure with a placid face rising up to tower over the strange nag, hips surrounded by hissing wooden dragons that catch and break the other nag's threads with their teeth.

  


The figure is not even halfway out of the earth, the barest hint of scales seen around its waist, when it smiles and brings its hands down with a sound as loud as thunder.

  


Tobirama stares at where the thread figures suddenly collapse, and then her eyes shift to where wooden hands crushed her would-be suitor like a bug. She shifts, digging absently through the piles of spider silk-

  


There. Four hearts are still stuttering to beat, and Tobirama's hands twist, drawing water out of the organs before she smashes them to dust. Then her attention turns to the silk itself, black as night and steel strong.

  


"I think," she says as she gathers the silk in her coils, washing it first with a sturdy suiton and then bathing it in her pheromones, "that I should take up weaving. This is from Yumigakure, and the spider who weaves it demands a life in return for every meter."

  


She beams at Hashirama when he approaches, welcoming him with a kiss.

  


"I think it would make a very nice blanket."

  


Hashirama blinks, then laughs, leaning forward to kiss her back. "My vicious darling," he says fondly; he'd only been planning on humiliating the nag, crushing him before sending him out of the village, but apparently Tobirama was much less forgiving.

  


Normally, he might object, but her enemies were his - especially now.

  


"You should have whatever blanket you want...and I'm not narcissistic!" he adds belatedly. "It doesn't - it picks the shape it wants by itself. It doesn't even look all that much like me!"

  


Only distantly familiar - more like an ancestor of his than him, if Hashirama were to opine on it. Still, it's more like him than not, which has led to similar accusations from Madara.

  


"I'm glad you're impressed, though," he says, taking her into his arms and nuzzling her. "And you're equally impressive after your shed - shall we go up the mountain now?"

  


He's excited, desperately so; he wants her - and while he's still a little afraid of rejection, the last few months have gone a long way toward calming those fears.

  


"Yes," she hisses, guiding his hand down to where her cloaca tremble for him, "I think we shall. I'm ready."

  


Tobirama seals away her skin and the silk, slipping the little scroll into a pouch that she slings over her shoulder. She spares one last look at the statue, at the still, gently smiling face that her mate has conjured. The wood is smooth under her fingers, and she smiles at Hashi, flushing a little as the scent of her desire blooms off her skin.

  


"I'm... Proud. You're my mate, and I'm proud. I'd be amenable to becoming more, if that's something you'd like."

  


She tucks herself under his chin to kiss his throat, sighing when she leaves a glittering smear of wetness on the cave floor.

  


Hashirama kisses her again, delighted. "I would love to marry you," he says happily. "When we come down from the mountain, we'll have the ceremony - and we can go visit your parents later."

  


It's traditional to go back to visit parents shortly after the marriage - usually the first few days after, but that doesn't account for the travel time. He wants to say that they'll do it once the eggs are hatched (even he knows that naga hatchlings are incredibly hardy, even if their eggs are not), but he doesn't want to risk making Tobirama nervous.

  


He tugs at her hand and they go up the mountain.

  


As they do, going much further into the mountain than they have in the past few months, he points out to her the various places he grew up - his favorite stream to catch fish, the cliff where he was chased up by a bear, the meandering trail of peonies he once planted just to see if he could.

  


Tobirama drinks in every detail of his hatchling-hood, catalogues every stream and rock face. She can see how Hashi has left his mark on the land, has claimed his territory in a manner that simply can't be done in the village. He may live among the humans for most of his time, but this is the very heart of his range, his home.

  


He leads her deep into a secluded cave system, far from the reach of humans, passed glittering crystals and clear pools to a lonely copse of trees, entangled in a shaft of sunlight. Tobirama relaxes into the roots made soft with moss as her mate shapes them, reclines among his power and slowly shrugs off her harness and kimono.

  


Her nipples pebble at the first brush of air, and goosebumps become a full body shudder when they rush down her belly. She strokes herself, caresses the new skin, admires the new segments of her rattle, and looks up at her mate.

  


Her cloaca shiver, shifting against one another as her pheromones cloud around them in the need of her breeding haze.

  


"I'm ready, Hashi. You have my attention, you may court me."

  


Hashirama kisses her, then backs up, running his body against her, scale against scale, his hands against her body, pressing them close together.

  


"I want you," he says, nuzzling her. "Oh, Tobirama - you're so beautiful, so perfect -"

  


He can't help the urge to bite her - lightly, of course, but when she makes a positive sound, a little more aggressively, albeit always careful to restrain his poison. He curls around behind her, nipping the nape of her neck, and twines closely with her.

  


At this point, his body - no matter how well-trained or how strong his will - has responded, his cloaca opening as his cocks slide out to present into the air, and Hashirama can't quite stop his shoulders from arching up in embarrassment as he slides back around her so she can see them.

  


He hopes she's not too disappointed.

  


For all this seems his first time, Hashi's seduction of her is utterly flawless. He's attentive, avidly caressing the length of her body with his own, tongue flicking over her skin to taste her pheromones. He nuzzles, presses his body against her own, and Tobirama allows herself to to shifted.

  


Slowly, carefully, politely he approaches her blind spot at the back of her neck. She's almost entirely defenseless when she's gripped there, and Tobirama shivers when his tongue flicks there.

  


Teeth caress her skin, needle sharp and backwards facing. His first bite is tentative, far too gentle, and Tobirama makes a soft hissing noise to encourage him, shifting her own body to meet him. His next attempt is less subdued, and Hashi's teeth hook into her skin, forcing a noise of pleasure out of her.

  


Tobirama’s hips lift, and at last, at last his hips slip under. She moans, mouth hanging open just a little as his spurs tickle her. She's ready, she's so so ready. Her cloaca part, and her lashes flutter with anticipation as she tastes the salty musk of his pre-come in the air-

  


Hashi pulls away, shifts out from under her, and Tobirama lets out a hissing keen of frustration. She's just about to scold him for teasing her when his members edge into her view and-

  


"Oh," she whispers breathlessly, "oh my. You're enormous."

  


And he is. Each cock must be the span of her arm, covered in fleshy barbs and tipped with what she assumes is a curling hook that will dig into her walls once he's reached completion. She... Won't be able to take both simultaneously, not without a lot of prep.

  


Her tongue flicks, her eyes chase a clear droplet from his tips all the way down to his base. Tobirama hisses with desire, cloaca blinking and passage rippling with need.

  


"Let me taste, gods Hashi I thought you were shy about being small- I misunderstood. I'm going to struggle to take you fully, even just one. Fuck I've never seen cocks that appealing in all my life."

  


Hashirama blinks, not quite understanding, then smiles, relieved; he doesn't really care that she thought he was small, all he cares about is the word appealing.

  


"Don't worry," he says with a cheeky grin. "I'll make sure you're ready."

  


He hoists her up and gets to work, using tongue and fingers as she's already become accustomed to, but she's already wet enough that it doesn't take as long as he expects - only one or two orgasms, really - before he feels like she can take him. At least one of him, anyway.

  


He rears up, kisses her, and slowly pushes in as she makes happy noises around him. The feeling of her clenching around his cock is - unlike anything he's experienced before. It's fantastic.

  


He means to wait until she's adjusted, really he does, but he's a virgin and a little overwhelmed: he starts moving at once, spurs locking into her and hands wrapped around her for leverage as he thrusts in and out in the way he's seen others (well, humans) do, and it's magnificent.

  


Tobirama moans, eyes wide with shock when Hashi starts to move. She reaches out, she means to stop him, to still him, but then his barbs scratch against something as-yet untouched inside her and all Tobirama can do is scream instead.

  


He stutters inside her, gazes worriedly down at her as he very obviously tries to stop moving. Tobirama’s passage clamps down around him, and she tips her head to glare and hiss at him.

  


"Don't you fucking dare stop! I-I aaaaaah! Please!"

  


Even the smallest shift of his body jars him deep inside, spur dragging against her walls and forming a line of hot pleasure-pain against the walls of her cunt. She ripples around him, draws him in for a kiss made clumsy with their lust, before she guides his head to her shoulders.

  


"Bite," she hisses, "bite me and breed me! Mark me as yours! I want-want your eggs, need you, need-please Hashi!"

  


His teeth sink deep and Tobirama comes with a cry, walls gripping tight with all the power of a constrictor. She squeezes his cock so hard there's no space left between them, and the evidence of her pleasure squirts out between them, wetting their scales with strings of her come.

  


Her body twists, tail curling and twisting into complex loops with his own. Her hand comes up to tweak her nipples, tugging as she shivers and milks him, her own face nuzzling into his neck before she bites, dry of venom, to stake her claim.

  


They move and shudder together a few times before they finally settle down, firmly tied together, and Hashirama has his Tobirama in his arms, snuggling in close for the duration.

  


"I hope I did okay," he says, smirking a little - the dazed expression on Tobirama's face was far from faked, so he was pretty confident she had enjoyed herself. Though he's just insecure enough to add, "Better than that stranger could have done, anyway...hey, I was wondering. What's a nest princess?"

  


"Far more than okay," she slurs at him, nuzzling and shivering as she traces the jagged bite marks he'd left her with, humming with pleasure. "There's usually not so much moving-but I like it! I like it and I've enjoyed this mating far more than any other. Nobody has or could please me the way you do, with your cocks or without."

  


She pulls her mate in for a slow, sensual kiss, nipping gently at his lips before she pulls away.

  


"It's just a title; blood purists thing. I'm the only egg bearer from what is supposed to be the oldest line of naga. The Senju have had a permanent nest further inland, a sort of Palace if you will, a capital for naga to return to if they need it. I'll be the first of my line to lay outside the nest in a long time, and when my mother dies I will be Queen, the last egg bearer of the Senju until I clutch a daughter."

  


"Senju," Hashirama says, frowning a little - the name tugs at his memory, something so deeply buried he can't quite grasp what, only that it's vaguely familiar.

  


One of the stories an Uchiha brought back, he supposes. 

  


The strange confusion is very helpful, though, in the sense that it distracts him from the other part of the revelation - that Tobirama is apparently a real princess.

  


"...I'd thought it was some sort of insult or in-joke," he confesses, blinking and biting lightly at her shoulder. "Huh. Not sure what to do with that, really...Is it rude to wish your mother a long life? I want to go visit to pay respect to your parents, but I don't want to move any time soon, you know? At least not as long as Madara is alive."

  


Naga live far longer than humans, a matter of endless sorrow for Hashirama. Still, if it's necessary, he'll consider it.

  


...it occurs to him that a normal person might have responded with more dramatics, but Hashirama is confident in himself and trusting in his mate: if Tobirama had cared about it, she would have brought it up herself.

  


Though -

  


"When our daughter is born, I feel like she should get a choice about whether or not she wants to be a princess," he says thoughtfully, reaching out to pat Tobirama's stomach. "Don't you think?"

  


Tobirama pulls him in for a gentle kiss, caressing the thick muscles of his back admiringly. She squeezes him, rippling around him and moaning when it earns her a curl of his spur and a spurt of his come in return.

  


"It's not rude, my love. I'm not eager to get back. I've also come to like it here, with you and Madara."

  


She nuzzles and reaches down for his second cock, stroking admiringly over the barbs and the spike of his spur, giggling when he shivers. Tobirama nips his lip and grins up at him.

  


"Daughter? Do you think I'm going to milk you dry for just one? I plan on having a nice full clutch, you're not getting off that easy. I'm going to have ten to twelve eggs at most, I'd go mad if they're all clumsy boys like their father."

  


She moans when he twitches deep inside her, and strokes the cock in her hand from base to tip as best she can.

  


"If there's not at least two daughters in this clutch, we're having at least one more. I hope Madara will be alright with us joining houses, and we'll need someone to hatchling sit once you're ready to see my parents."

  


"Madara will try to kill us, but he'll be happy in the end," Hashirama, ever an optimist, predicts. "Izuna will be disgustingly delighted and try to poison all of them, but in a friendly sort of way...Mikoto will teach them the meaning of fear, but also make them mochi."

  


His smile fades a little. "It might take a few clutches to get as many as you're thinking," he warns. "Especially if anyone inherits the Mokuton - one of the sages that wandered by the village once told me that it requires a lot of energy to make just one of me. Of course, he also said it was extraordinarily unlikely to end up with one of me..."

  


His lips twitch up again. "I like the idea of a nice, full clutch," he says, nuzzling closer to her again. "And you don't need to worry: there's no place like our village. Every single Uchiha will want to help take care of them."

  


"I'll love them no matter who they turn out like, you or me. I want a family, not power. No matter what happens I'm not letting a single egg go, not while I've still got life in me left to give."

  


Tobirama kisses him, nuzzles and sighs as he slowly begins to unhook them, member still swollen. She's reluctant to let him go, but she knows his second cock will have fresh seed for her womb, eases back onto their mating bed to welcome him into her again.

  


It's about two weeks later that Hashirama wakes up in the morning, stretching with a yawn, and says, "So, should we head back down the mountain?"

  


When Tobirama scowls at him, he frowns back, a little confused. "What? Two weeks is good for a honeymoon, isn't it...? And anyway the clutch took at least a week ago, so we're good to go, no?"

  


"They took? How do you know?"

  


Tobirama props herself up on her elbows to glare expectantly at him, yawning widely, tongue flicking. She's... tired, she fell asleep yesterday afternoon and she's still tired.

  


"It's too early to say for sure, and I don't want to leave until I know."

  


Hashirama raises his eyebrows and comes back over, reaching down to her belly. 

  


"Use your senses," he advises, and when he sees her concentrate, he reaches out with his own chakra. It's a technique he picked up from watching bats: sending out a pulse of chakra, and getting a reflection of all things living in return.

  


The pulse returns, in the nearby vicinity, all the plants and mushrooms in the cave around them, Tobirama, and the faint little sparks of life currently nestled in her belly.

  


"Oh," she whispers, tears stinging her eyes, "I see."

  


They're still no more than follicles, not much more than a few cells bundled together as they journey down her womb and spreading out to grow inside her. There's six, six healthy bundles, and Tobirama leans in with the intention to kiss her mate before a yawn takes her and her belly growls.

  


"You're going to hear a lot of that. And I... Nagina aren't exactly pleasant to be around when we're pregnant." She owes him this, one last chance to change his mind free of judgement. "If you want to leave, or want me to leave, now is the time."

  


"Never," Hashirama says firmly. "You can be as much of a beast as you like, but I'm not leaving you - or my children."

  


He pauses, then grin. "Well, not permanently. How about I leave for now, though, and get you a nice deer?"

  


Hashirama actually carries her down the mountain, stuffed to bursting and half way into a food coma as Tobirama is. She's had more than half, more than two thirds of the deer that Hashirama had so graciously caught for her.

  


By the time they're home, Tobirama has little energy for more than crawling into their nest and sleeping.

  


She's woken, judging by the light and the noise of market day, two days later. Madara is talking to Hashirama, seated easily on her mates tail. She hisses at him, irritable at having her rest interrupted.

  


"Hashi," she snarls when Madara glares at her, pointedly returning the red gaze, "I'm hungry."

  


Hashirama beams at her. "Yes, dear; of course."

  


He waves his hand and the small dome he'd constructed next to the nest to keep food from spoiling collapses and reveals all the dishes inside: the usual huge chunks of meat that Hashirama usually cooks for her, of course, but also a fairly extensive selection of home cooked dishes donated from everyone in the village upon hearing of the impending clutch.

  


"How are you feeling?" he asks, politely not expecting an answer until Tobirama has sated herself.

  


"Fine. Hungry, tired... And a little," she shuffles her scales against him meaningfully. Madara still hasn't left, even if he's very obviously a little uncomfortable at the rate at which food is disappearing into her mouth.

  


Tobirama looks at him pointedly as her jaws unhinge for a chicken she's too starved to waste time breaking into pieces, relishing the way his jaw tightens and his face looses colour.

  


She works her way through four or five dishes, enough to feed a whole family, humming with delight when her final bowl of ramen leaves her with a tingle on her lips to match the heat stirring in her loins.

  


"You," she says as she pepper kisses along the length of Hashi's neck, "look very attractive to me now. I know it's because I've just eaten, but I'm such a lucky nagina to have such a considerate mate."

  


"I think," Madara grumbles somewhere to her right as he eases himself down to lean back against Hashi's tail, "that if having kids looks like that then I'm fine without."

  


"Izuna will take care of it for you," Hashirama says virtuously. "Now scoot, I have a mate to take care of, if you know what I mean."

  


"Oh, I know what you mean," Madara says, getting up with a stretch and rolled eyes. "Do I ever know what you mean..."

  


The second he's out the door, Hashirama turns to Tobirama with a grin.

  


"I like you. Have I told you I like you recently? Because I really, really do. You're very considerate, and I like that."

  


She pulls him in for a kiss, grinning at the little 'oof' she gets when she settles on top of him. Tobirama’s face clears of all mischief and desire for a moment, and she admires the mate looking trustingly up at her.

  


"I love you, Hashi. Not just because you fucked me and got me pregnant, not just because you fed me. I love you because you're here, with me, and I know you're not going anywhere. I love you for everything you've done for me and just for you."

  


She dips for a kiss, and it's tender and sweet with the building heat of her arousal to chase it down. Her mates hand slips down her belly, and she opens her cloaca eagerly for him.

  


Hashirama kisses her back, eagerly reaching to touch her. "I love you too," he says. "I love you as a partner, as a mate - I'll be by your side, always, and you'll be with me, and we'll have our children...you make me so happy, Tobirama. I'm so glad you came to our village."

  


Pregnancy is... taxing for the first three weeks. When Tobirama isn't sleeping she's either eating, attending bodily functions or demanding her mate fuck her through the floor. She's grumpy, irritable and ready to snap at anyone who gets in her way.

  


Hashi has been wonderfully accommodating. He feeds the endless pit in her belly without complaint, kisses her when she snaps at him and helps her around when she really needs to pee but has eaten too much to get to the bathroom quickly.

  


He assauges her sexual appetite with a thorough regular tongueing, and allows himself to be pressed down when Tobirama will settle for nothing short of his cocks.

  


Today is better. Her temper has abated, and Tobirama is finally awake for longer than she is asleep. She's already showing, six swells down the length of her body. She glories in it, the weight of her body, the drain on her chakra.

  


"Hello, beloved," she murmurs, turning to look at her mate. She's up before him for the first time in a long while, out relaxing in the sun and massaging breasts that seem intent to grow and feed the hungry mouths to come.

  


Hashirama smiles and reaches for her, rubbing her belly gently. "Hello, Tobirama. How are you this morning...?"

  


She's been temperamental these past few weeks, just as she'd warned him; mostly hungry or angry or needy, but he hasn't minded in the slightest.

  


"Do you feel up to going to the market today?" he asks.

  


She turns to draw him into a kiss, reluctant to part with him even though she's not hungry for sex just yet. She sighs when his hands come up to cup her breasts, easing the ache with the glow of gentle green light.

  


"Yes. I don't think I'm going to scare off any villagers now."

  


The market is busy, but everyone is respectful of her space. Everyone congratulates them, shakes their hands and gifts her food.

  


Tobirama is happy to accept, happier to spend the morning tangled with her mate, manning the stall.

  


They're handing it over to Mikoto, unwilling to strain her body and heading home when the feeling creeps up on her. Flashes of familiar details draw her eye, and Tobirama shifts uneasily and presses on.

  


She's slithering leisurely down the cobbled path when it pulls in her gut again. A tug in her tail, and Tobirama whirls. It's just Kagami, she tries to reassure herself, but all the same her panic gets the better of her.

  


She jerks her tail out of his grip and streaks into the nearest alley, breath fast enough to dizzy her, heart pounding with fear. She doesn't want to look, doesn't want to confirm the image behind her lids with cold reality.

  


Hashirama sees Tobirama's distress at once, waving off the concerned Uchihas and following her at once and carefully reaching out to take her hand.

  


"Tobirama? What's wrong, tell me - everything's fine," he says soothingly, seeing her twitching with stress. "Everything's fine, the eggs are fine, I'm here, there's nothing to worry about - do you want to see them? You'll see, everything's fine..."

  


She nods frantically, blindly clinging on to his hand and doing her best to calm her breathing. She's hyperventilating, but right now calm is a million miles away.

  


"I just - I need to see them. Show me."

  


Hashirama shows her: six thriving life signs, all strong and healthy. "Look at them," he says with a faint smile. "Bright young things, look, see - they're okay, they're healthy, you don't need to worry - you haven't done anything wrong -"

  


Tobirama shudders and he pulls her close, tries to think of something to distract her.

  


"...want to know the gender ratio?" he tries helplessly.

  


Tobirama curls against him, burying herself in the safety of the six signatures made bright under her protective blanket of chakra. They're healthy, pulsing steady and bright, cradled inside her and each in its place. She almost doesn't hear her mate.

  


"Yes," she shudders, breath hitching, "yes please."

  


Hashirama focuses on the minute differentiations that only he can detect, humming gently to try to comfort Tobirama.

  


"Well," he says after a few moments, his tone a little wry. "You're not going to need to worry about the inheritance line, I suppose - looks like we're anticipating two little princesses, and four little princes."

  


She yanks her mate in for a kiss, devours him with lips and tongue, every movement sweetened with relief. They're safe, they're hale, and Tobirama has not failed them before they've had a chance to taste the air of this world.

  


He kisses back, smiling with relief.

  


"How about we plan a dinner?" he asks spontaneously. "Invite Madara, Izuna, Mikoto, the whole lot of them. It'll be fun."

  


A nice distraction from her fears will do Tobirama some good.

  


"Alright," she says, finally looking back at the length of her serpentine body and observing every swell within.

  


Their intended guests agree easily, except for Madara who promptly turns the invitation around and demands they all have dinner at his place. Tobirama agrees, happy to get out of cooking.

  


This should be an interesting test to see if he's a worthy guardian of the hatchlings, and it will determine whether or not he will look after them when it's time to introduce Hashi to her family.

  


Madara is a conscientious host, albeit in his usual style: he pretended loudly that he'd just thrown together any old thing, no effort spent, but it was easy to see the thought that had gone into it - each person in the right place to make them comfortable, surrounded by people they liked best, their favorite dishes available and placed rightly them. Even the arrangement of pillows was tailored to each person.

  


Conversation flowed quickly, with Madara paying close attention to any details about the future little snakelings, as he insisted on calling them.

  


"That," Tobirama snaps for what feels like the fourth time, "is not what they're called. And anyway, for the moment they're all safe and warm and out of the way of any foolish caretakers that might not taste intruders sneaking about."

  


She sniffs haughtily, grumbling when Hashi's tail skates along her own. He thinks she's being motherly, but it's honestly just... a natural worry that any parent would have. It's none of Madara's business that she has her mate reveal them under her blanketing chakra every evening. She's just... checking. They don't kick like little humans in her belly, so this is the only way she knows they're safe and healthy.

  


"I'm still not happy leaving them alone," she pouts down into her fish, glaring at Madara when he scoffs at her.

  


"You're not leaving them alone," Madara replied, equally testy - though the milder version he uses when he's not actually ticked off by anything, a rare event. "You'd be leaving them with us. An entire village. That's hardly alone."

  


He sniffs, rolling his eyes and reaching for another dish, absent-mindedly adding, "I mean, the last time any of our children faced even a hint of threat was the last time the Fire Daimyo attacked, and the only thing that actually happened was that Kagami tripped over his own two feet trying to get a better view -"

  


"Madara!" Izuna scolds, shaking his head and clicking his tongue. He's not the only one, either: plenty of the Uchiha at the table are frowning at Madara, censorious; even Hashirama, who isn't quite as superstitious, has been sufficiently infected by village tradition to shake his head.

  


It's not exactly forbidden to discuss the village's...extracurricular activities, of course, or the consequences thereof, but it's certainly not approved of.

  


Madara, realizing his mistake, hangs his head. "You know what I mean," he complains. "We're really as safe as safe can be, here - even the youngest qualified adult in the village has enough of a medical education to qualify as basic medic anywhere else, and even putting aside self-defense, we have the instincts necessary to catch any child who so much as thinks about touching a sharp corner. Who better to watch snakelings than us?"

  


Tobirama narrows her eyes and gives her a considering look as she works down a small chicken. She's been in politics long enough to recognize when someone is speaking around a subject that all but she is familiar with. It's like sitting at the table with her mother discussing the males she thinks would breed well with Tobirama.

  


"Is there... something I should be aware of?" She looks pointedly at Hashi, hissing low in her throat when he quails under gaze. "Well? I need to know. They are my hatchlings, and as a mother I think I deserve to know what the people I entrust with my hatchlings do in their spare time."

  


She turns her head away decisively when Hashi tries to sidle up to her, and he subsides with a bowed head. She's going to be a mother, finally, and if Tobirama isn't assured of the safety of her brood, no matter how much she's come to like the Uchiha, she will leave and lay elsewhere.

  


Everyone blinks at her blankly, even Hashirama.

  


"...did no one ever say?" Mikoto says, voice utterly blank with surprise. "I mean - I suppose no one would, no one ever does -"

  


Madara buries his face in his hands. Izuna leans back and groans. The other Uchiha respond with similar actions.

  


Hashirama looks around the room. "Why would anyone mention it?" he asks, bewildered. "I thought that was the whole point of the superstition - you don't talk about everyone's winter and summer work because you don't want to bring violence back home. I think it's a decent enough idea, even if a little silly. Why is everyone...?"

  


"You idiot tree noodle," Madara says, his voice muffled by his hands. "Just because you've grown up your entire life in a shinobi village doesn't mean that everyone else in the world has - our traditions aren't the same as other people! She wouldn't have just guessed!"

  


"...other villages don't shift over to shinobi work during the -"

  


"No! They don't!"

  


"Oh," she says, "is that all. What? I thought it was something more serious, like occult worship."

  


She'd had a very unpleasant run-in with a Jashinist nag who had wanted to sacrifice him to her god after they'd mated, and Tobirama had been quick to put an end to that with venom and fire. She sags a little with relief, welcoming Hashi when he sheepishly wriggles a coil of his under hers. She strokes down the length of his back, savoring the smoothness of his scales. Tobirama smiles at the frozen faces around the table.

  


"I'm hardly unfamiliar with shinobi. Venom is far too distinctive. If I wanted someone killed in court, hired help was the easiest way to take care of the problem.

  


"If you were involved in court, you probably hired one of us at some point," Izuna says cheerfully, his ability to ignore an awkward situation second to none. "We're pretty good."

  


The rest of the table slowly relaxes as it becomes apparent that Tobirama will not call them out on their faux pas, and the various conversations pick up where they left off.

  


"They are pretty good, actually," Hashirama whispers to Tobirama. "They're really fast, and they can do things with chakra - mostly fire, but that's good, no one in the village has ever been burned, and of course there's a scattering of other talents as well. The village has never suffered a serious incursion once in a hundred years, despite occasional attempts. It's very safe, and people are very conscientious."

  


"That's good. For a moment I was worried I'd run into more of Hidan's cult. It would be a shame if I had to kill the father of my offspring and his friends because I frown on his ritualistic religious practices."

  


Madara frowns at her from across the table, but Tobirama spares him no more than a smile and a wink of her clear lid before she goes for the fish she's been eyeing the whole evening.

  


"Nope," Hashirama says with a smile, oblivious to Madara's mild offense as he'd long since become injured. "Totally standard religion, as far as I know. Pure lands, eventual reincarnation, the usual...no cults."

  


"Even if there were, we wouldn't be Jashinists," Madara grumbles. "Were you the nagina that got rid of that nag, what's his name, Hidan? Good for you. I heard things about him."

  


"So did I," Izuna puts in. "And now I'm regretful I didn't take the opportunity to challenge Tobirama to a spar."

  


"You'll get a chance after the eggs have been laid," Hashirama says. "She'll beat you as black and blue as you like."

  


The rest of her pregnancy is... surprisingly easy. Hashi is a great help, strong enough to lift her when she falls asleep in inconvenient places and endlessly patient with how slow she's become with the weight of her eggs. She's been sleeping a little more than usual, and Tobirama knows she's dues soon. She's even thicker around than Hashi now, plump with stored fat and grithy with her brood.

  


Tobirama wakes form a long, restful sleep with a twinge in her belly. She jolts, sitting up and pawing at her mate where he's still breathing deeply and twitching with dreams. Tobirama is going to lay and she's going to do so now.

  


"Hashi," she hisses urgently, "Hashi get up I need to lay! Oh my gods you lazy worm get up I-aaah!"

  


Her cloaca are already parting, and she uses her temporarily heavier weight to move one of his coils out of the way. Tobirama trembles with worry, keening quietly at the stabbing pain of her muscles stretching themselves as her contractions push the eggs up.

  


Sticky strings of her slick spill, easing the way for her eggs. Tobirama bowls her body, pressing her open sex down to the nest floor to release her eggs gently, even as she digs fingers into her own hide.

  


Hashirama wakes up at once, curling around Tobirama protectively. There's nothing he can do other than stand guard, protecting Tobirama, protecting the eggs, and he reaches out to wrap his arms around Tobirama's torso gently so that she feels that he's there, supporting her.

  


The laying process is luckily short - he'd feared for a while that it would be painful, like human labor, but Tobirama had laughed at him when he'd brought it up - and it feels both like forever yet no time at all has passed when...they're there.

  


The eggs.

  


Their eggs.

  


"You're done," he whispers into a trembling Tobirama's ear. "You're done, you did it, the eggs have been laid - they're beautiful, Tobirama; look at them. They're there; they're viable; they're real."

  


She's shaking like a vine snake in a storm, almost afraid to look down at her freshly laid clutch. The memory of dull, grey empty eggs dances behind her lids, and when she finally can't take her mind's taunting she looks down.

  


There they are, six white leathery shells still wet and glistening from her efforts. They wriggle faintly, the occupants clearly displeased about being pushed and pulled by her contractions.

  


"Yes," she murmurs, "there they are. Mine. Finally here."

  


She runs her chakra over them, and now that they're out of her she can sense them clearly. Four little nags and two nagina, all squirming happily under her senses and reaching out to her when her fingers gently run over the shells. They must harden some, to proper tough leather that her brood will cut open with the diamond hard blade tip of their tails.

  


"Hashi, you're a father."

  


She leans over to give him a kiss, collapsing gratefully into his arms as he curls the both of them tight around the eggs to keep them from getting too chilled.

  


"And you, my lovely Tobirama, are a mother," he says, and kisses her back. 

  


His words are for her, but very soon his focus shifts: He can't take his eyes off of the eggs, can't help but reach out to touch them, awed beyond awe.

  


He'd always believed he'd have a family one day, unfailing optimism, but - after years of disappointments, years of set-backs, he'd started classifying it as something in the future, something to come, never something happening, something now.

  


"I'm a father," he breathes. "I have a family."

  


"Yes," she murmurs, drawing him in for another kiss. Her mate is appropriately awestruck, and she's all too happy to join twine their fingers and run them over the leathery shells. The occupants wriggle and ripple within to greet them, and Tobirama smiles at her mates noise of uncontrollable happy surprise.

  


"And now you need to come up with a plan to take care of these while I brood."

  


Tobirama bares her breasts to him, full and firm, peaked nipples already beading with milk. Her young won't need it to survive, but her body is adamant to dote on this perfect clutch with rich luxuries that a lot of hatchlings don't get.

  


"I'm blaming you for this. It's rare for a nagina to lactate and practically unheard-of for it to happen so early. How do the humans manage?"

  


Hashirama laughs, reaching out to cup her breasts in his hands. "Well, there's a number of ways," he says, a wicked grin forming on his face. "They can suffer, of course; they can feed other people's children, or try to store it in jars; and there is one other option..."

  


He lowers his head down and lets his tongue flick out to taste the liquid oozing out from her nipple.

  


The four months of waiting are both fulfilling and nerve wracking. Tobirama, who would ordinarily starve herself for most of the time she's brooding over her eggs, is kept plump and healthy by a mate who either brings her food or takes a shift over the eggs so that she may satisfy her urge to hunt and attend other bodily functions. She's... Actually a little fat.

  


"Look at me," she grumbles to her mate, pinching her paunch and showing it to Hashi, "you made me fat."

  


For all the dawning horror on his face, she is quite proud. She waggles her eyebrows at him and hefts her breasts, which she knows he likes because she will wake to his face pillowed between them when they pass out together during a suckling session.

  


"Fat here too. I'm quite proud. You feed me well, my love, though if I hear Madara say that I can kill people with my jugs again, then I'm shaving him bald."

  


She's just about to wipe away an errant white drop when there's a telling wriggle under her tail that kicks her heart into overdrive. She yanks her mate closer by the arm and gently scoops the egg up with a coil.

  


She watches avidly, ready to help if her hatchling really needs it, as they wriggle and squirm, hand prints pressing out for Tobirama to caress with her fingertips. Finally a little slit appears, a blade poking through the stretched shell.

  


A tongue follows, flicking to taste the first scents of the world. The nose that chases it is adorably scrunched, upturned in a haughty sniff that is seemingly genetic. A face at last, caramel coloured skin and dark brows like her mate but for a blotch of pale cream on the tiny nagina's cheek.

  


Her body is very much her father, all bright juvenile yellows, but a mottled white belly to harken to Tobirama. She's a demanding little princess too, sliding straight into her mother's arms to suckle at a heavy breast, golden eyes already wide to take in the sight of her parents.

  


The eggs hatch in quick succession, and though there is a minor scuffle for who gets to have the next turn at Tobirama's nipples it's quickly sorted out. The smallest, a prince and an albino like his mother, is the last to get a turn. But Tobirama has plenty to give and she makes sure his belly is fat.

  


She turns to look at Madara, who had appeared somewhere during the feeding despite her having lashed out at him during her brooding. She beckons him over and tilts a coil to show off the motley crew nestled within, fat and asleep.

  


"They're adorable," he says frankly, looking a little stunned. "Also, there are six of them."

  


"I told you there were six," Hashirama protests mildly.

  


"Yes, you did. But there are six. And they're so tiny and adorable - I don't remember you being adorable, you rotten tree noodle. It must be Tobirama's good genes.'

  


Madara, Tobirama thinks to herself with a quiet smile, would make a terrible scarecrow. His birds nest hair is the delight of her brood, far more springy and entertaining than their sires silky tresses. Not to mention that they come with sound effects beyond a quiet 'ow, no don't do that'.

  


Madara is hissing and spitting like a true nag, desperately trying to free his hair from grasping pudgy fingers and keep hold of the scroll containing Tobirama’s post lay shed. He has at least taken their advice and worn leather braces, which one little princess is happy to hook her curved teeth in.

  


Their venom is just as potent as an adult nags, but Izuna has made an anti-venom from samples given by her and Hashi.

  


They part tearfully, though her nest of hatchlings is quickly distracted by their human uncle. Finally she is going home.

  


Hashirama seems to get more and more nervous as they go, and by the time they've entered the dense rainforest of her home he's practically vibrating in his skin. It's after they've met the outer guards that Tobirama can't keep her peace any longer.

  


"What's wrong, my love?"

  


He looks up, surprised, but he shouldn't be; Tobirama is perceptive as ever, and the fact that he's not used to having his emotions noticed isn't any reason to doubt that she would.

  


"It's nothing," he says automatically, then hesitates. "It's only - I don't know. Being here, meeting all the naga...it's strange to me."

  


That isn't the real reason, and Tobirama knows it, he can tell by the way she arches her eyebrows at him.

  


"...there are a lot of naga here," he says again. "And the river isn't far. I can't help but wonder - my parents..."

  


Tobirama frowns, tangling them together for a full body embrace to curb the dark thoughts she sees lingering in the shadows of Hashi's eyes. She can't claim happy eagerness to meet them, not with all the damage they've done, nor is she one for false platitudes.

  


"They probably nested here at the time of your laying, yes. But there's no way to guarantee that they have remained."

  


She cups his face in her hands.

  


"Hashi, who they are and why they did what they did won't change anything. You will have your answers if we find them, but it won't change you. Won't make you any more or any less than who you are. My perfect mate."

  


She seals the words between them with a kiss, strokes over trembling eyelids and kisses them too.

  


Hashirama smiles and kisses her back. "It's not even that I want answers from them, the way you do," he says, nuzzling her cheek. "I just - want to know them. Who are they? What are they like? Is there anything of me in there...?"

  


He frowns a little, thinking about it; his parents were willing to discard him, and he'd long been afraid when he had children...but no. Not once did he ever think of it. His eggs, now hatchlings, were far, far too precious.

  


"Well, anyway," he says, shaking his head. "Parents or no, this trip has certainly been full of surprises."

Tobirama reaches up to smooth the wrinkle between his brows, smiling up at him when he raises them.

  


"Oh? How so? Has your Mokuton reacted differently?"

  


"My Mokuton?" he asks, blinking. "No, not at all: trees are trees, just about the same everywhere. Well, almost. The one time I tried to leave the village on one of Madara's, um, summer holidays, we went to Suna and I reacted badly for some reason, but...no, nothing on this trip so far."

  


He smiles, eyes a little dazed. "Though actually, it's been really nice ever since we got close to the rainforest. All the trees, all around - they're so tall. And thirsty."

  


Tobirama takes a hint from what she sees in his eyes, drawing him up into the bowl of an ancient ironwood and twining them together in the branches. He sighs, shifting to support her weight flawlessly as she draws him in for a deeper, hungrier kiss here in their little private bubble.

  


"If it's not your Mokuton, then what has your mind so thoroughly occupied?"

  


"Oh, you know," he says with a shrug, leaning his head against her. "Little things keep surprising me, things I didn't expect. The way people openly taste the air here, or the - frankly ridiculous - elaborate greetings people give each other...oh, the names! That was a surprise. I thought all naga names contained '-ama'."

  


It was a reasonable assumption, after all: the only naga he knew was Tobirama, who spoke of her brothers: Kawarama, Itama...

  


Tobirama giggles, shifting her body into something of a hammock to support both their torsos. It's interesting to see her world from the view of an outsider; refreshing. Though some of the assumptions he makes are a little odd.

  


"No," she tells him gently, "only the names of the royal family end like that. And besides, your name ends differently."

  


She frowns down at him when he stiffens.

  


"But...it does," he says, mind starting to work through the implications of what Tobirama just said. "My full name - well, no one calls me that, it's been years - my birth name is Hashirama."

  


The royal family...

  


Tobirama was royal.

  


"How large is your family?" he asks, suddenly. He hopes against hope that it's very large. Cousins, maybe - surely that would be fine...

  


"Oh." She shakes her head distractedly, petting a hand over his scales. "It's just the four of us. Five."

  


Mother, she snarls to herself, blade twitching with the lust to strike, mother how could you! An innocent egg, thrown into the river and out into the human realm!

  


Her heart quickens with the desire to fight, muscular tissue around her venom glands shuddering in readiness to bring a swift end to such a callous liar, a true viper in her nest.

  


Hashirama shudders. 

  


"But that would make us siblings," he says, suddenly desperately unhappy. "If we're siblings...the children -"

  


They were healthy. He was sure of that. But - the stigma, the shame...it was his fault. Him, and his stupid heritage, not knowing and yet careless, never even imagining -

  


And now Tobirama is angry, he can feel it, and his head dips down. "...I'm sorry."

  


"Sorry?! How is this your fault?!"

  


She jerks his head up to look at her, gazes deep into Hashi-Hashirama's eyes. The eyes of her elder brother, the first born of her nest. He looks deeply worried, the corners of his eyes crinkling with the weight of his imagined guilt. Tobirama frowns, tilting her head.

  


"What about the children? Lots of siblings have children."

  


Hashirama chokes. "What?! No, they don't - well, I mean, maybe royalty - technically you are royalty -"

  


He's confusing the issue.

  


"They're the product of incest! Most people think that's bad!"

  


"Most humans, which you and I are not. It's common among naga, and it doesn't have as many adverse effects among us as it does humans. I think it's because of the way our additional genes function."

  


She strokes her hand over the tangled silk of his hair, scratching at the base of his skull.

  


"And that's hardly what we need to worry about now."

  


"...oh," Hashirama says, blinking. It's - he thought - well. He guesses that this isnt the first cultural assumption he's gotten wrong.

  


But then why was Tobirama upset? And, more importantly -

  


"What do you mean? As long as the kids are all right, what do we need to worry about?"

  


"My mother," she snaps, shaking him by the chin, "who tossed out a viable egg with a live hatchling within! Out to drown in a river, out into a world full of poachers and illegal traders and nutcase Jashinists who sacrifice baby naga to their gods and eat them like crisps. Disgusting!"

  


Her jaws clench, and Tobirama makes a noise of irritation when her needle teeth prick the soft sheath of her tongue.

  


"...oh." 

  


Hashirama struggles for a moment, but eventually says, " I understand that that's horrifying, and I would never countenance anything like that, but...why is it something to worry about? I survived, didn't I..?"

  


A thought strikes him. "You don't think they'd try to kill me now, do you? Why?"

  


Why did my parents hate me so much...?

  


"Anyone who so much as looks at you with a raised blade will die by my hand. I'll have none of it. And we'll just have to ask her when we see her."

  


She has no idea why her mother would do such a thing, but she has a feeling she's not going to like the answer.

  


"Whatever you want," Hashirama says, feeling a little overwhelmed. "She's your mother..."

  


He pauses, his head hurting.

  


"Our mother, I guess? But, well,I mean - you're the one who knows her. She's your mother. She's just biological source material to me."

  


Tobirama laughs at that and guides them down to the ground. She can't disagree with that analysis, and far be it from her to defend her mother after what she's done.

  


"Shall we rest a little, my love? You're awfully tense. I... Know some hot springs nearby?"

  


Hashirama struggles for a moment with his internalized biases from his human education, then realizes it's stupid to worry now. 

  


"A nice rest sounds nice," he says, dropping a kiss onto her neck. "You know I always appreciate your help in reducing - tension."

  


Besides, maybe some sex will make Tobirama a little less homicidal.

  


"Hashi. Hashirama. I like it much more than just Hashi. You don't... You don't have to."

  


She can read the uneasy shifts in his body, the twists of his coils, and doesn't force him. Settles back against the rim of the rocky pool and spreads her arms in welcome.

  


"I want to," Hashirama says firmly, settling in next to her. "You're the most important person in the world to me, mother of my children, and even if this is - weird - that doesn't change that."

  


It's easy now, to welcome her mate into her space, to overlap their coils and lean against the heavy muscle of his bare chest. He's still a little tense, still a little uneasy, and she doesn't do more than welcome him in. Tobirama turns her head for a kiss, but waits patiently for more instead of demanding.

  


Hashirama takes a long look at her, reassuring himself mentally that nothing has changed. The longstanding mystery of his birth and abandonment - what is that, next to Tobirama? To his Tobirama: pale and beautiful, mother of his hatchlings, who promised him her hand in marriage and her partnership for life?

  


Nothing at all.

  


He smiles, casts aside all doubts, and gathers her into his arms.

  


The burst of confidence and serenity that comes from that decision lasts him all through the night and most of the next morning, but by the time they've passed through three different gates and several dozen people bowing and calling Tobirama "Tobirama-sama" to end up at a large and dominating structure that can only barely be called a house, he's gone back to nervousness.

  


Even putting aside the fact that he will never regret what he's made with Tobirama - he's going to meet his parents!

  


Tobirama's mother is the colour of sand, tail a dark olive that shimmers with iridescence and a curvaceous torso.

  


"Tobirama. It is nice to see you come to nest. And this is?"

  


"Mother, this is my mate and husband; Senju Hashirama, your eldest son."

  


They return to the village to find Madara bound hand and foot by strong young bodies, lax with the warmth of the summer sun. Her husband leans down to kiss her once the children have suckled and eaten, and at last Tobirama is settled in her skin.

  


**Author's Note:**

> We hope you enjoyed our fun! Let us know what you think or if you have any ideas!


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